CAUGHT  IN  THE   NET 


Sabine  murmured,  "It  is  lovely!" 
From  a  drawing  by  John  Sloan 


CAUGHT 
IN  THE  NET 


Translated  from  the  French  of 

EMILE  GABORIAU 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK::::::::::::::::::::1923 


COPYKIGHT,  1913,  BY 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  PUTTING  ON  THE  SCREW 1 

II.  A  REGISTRY  OFFICE 25 

HI.  THE  OPINION  OF  DR.  HORTEBISE  ...  40 

IV.  A  TRUSTWORTHY  SERVANT     ....  52 

V.  A  FORGOTTEN  CRIME 61 

VI.  A  MEDICAL  ADVISER 78 

VII.  IN  THE  STUDIO 96 

Vni.  MADEMOISELLE  DE  MUSSTOAN        .      .      .105 

DC.  ROSE'S  PROMOTION 114 

X.  "You  ARE  A  THIEF" 122 

XL  THE  MAN-MILLINER 140 

XII.  A  STARTLING  REVELATION      ....  158 

XIII.  HUSBAND  AND  WIFE 173 

XIV.  FATHER  AND  DAUGHTER 181 

XV.  MASTER  CHUPIN  .                                      .  192 


vi  CONTENTS 


CHAPTEB 


PAGE 


XVI.  A  TURN  OF  THE  SCREW      .      .      .      .201 

XVII.  SOME  SCRAPS  OF  PAPER      .      .      .      .214 

XVIII.   AN  INFAMOUS  TRADE 225 

XIX.  A  FRIENDLY  RIVAL 241 

XX.  A  COUNCIL  OF  WAR 253 

XXI.  AN  ACADEMY  OF  Music      .      .      .      .268 
XXII.  DIAMOND  cur  DIAMOND      .      .      .      .278 

XXIII.  FATHER  AND  SON  .      .      .      .      .      .  293 

XXIV.  AN  ARTFUL  TRICK 304 

XXV.  A  NEW  SKIN    .      .      .      ...      .  320 

XXVI.  AT  THE  GRAND  TURK  .      .      .      .      .343 

XXVII.   THE  LAST  LINK 358 


CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

CHAPTER  I. 

PUTTING  ON   THE   SCREW. 

THE  cold  on  the  8th  of  February,  186 — ,  was  more 
intense  than  the  Parisians  had  experienced  during  the 
whole  of  the  severe  winter  which  had  preceded  it,  for 
at  twelve  o'clock  on  that  day  Chevalier's  thermometer, 
so  well  known  by  the  denizens  of  Paris,  registered  three 
degrees  below  zero.  The  sky  was  overcast  and  full  of 
threatening  signs  of  snow,  while  the  moisture  on  the 
pavement  and  roads  had  frozen  hard,  rendering  traffic 
of  all  kinds  exceedingly  hazardous.  The  whole  great 
city  wore  an  air  of  dreariness  and  desolation,  for  even 
when  a  thin  crust  of  ice  covers  the  waters  of  the  Seine, 
the  mind  involuntarily  turns  to  those  who  have  neither 
food,  shelter,  nor  fuel. 

This  bitterly  cold  day  actually  made  the  landlady  of 
the  Hotel  de  Perou,  though  she  was  a  hard,  grasping 
woman  from  Auvergne,  give  a  thought  to  the  condition 
of  her  lodgers,  and  one  quite  different  from  her  usual 
idea  of  obtaining  the  maximum  of  rent  for  the  minimum 
of  accommodation. 

"The  cold,"  remarked  she  to  her  husband,  who  was 
busily  engaged  in  replenishing  the  stove  with  fuel,  **  is 
enough  to  frighten  the  wits  out  of  a  Polar  bear.  In 


2  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

this  kind  of  weather  I  always  feel  very  anxious,  for  it 
was  during  a  winter  like  this  that  one  of  our  lodgers 
hung  himself,  a  trick  which  cost  us  fifty  francs,  in  good, 
honest  money,  besides  giving  us  a  bad  name  in  the 
neighborhood.  The  fact  is,  one  never  knows  what 
lodgers  are  capable  of  doing.  You  should  go  up  to  the 
top  floor,  and  see  how  they  are  getting  on  there." 

"Pooh,  pooh!"  replied  her  husband,  M.  Loupins; 
"  they  will  do  well  enough." 

"  Is  that  really  your  opinion  ?  " 

"  I  know  that  I  am  right.  Daddy  Tantaine  went  out 
as  soon  as  it  was  light,  and  a  short  time  afterward 
Paul  Violaine  came  down.  There  is  no  one  upstairs 
now  but  little  Rose,  and  I  expect  that  she  has  been 
wise  enough  to  stick  to  her  bed." 

"  Ah ! "  answered  the  landlady  rather  spitefully.  "  I 
have  made  up  my  mind  regarding  that  young  lady  some 
time  ago;  she  is  a  sight  too  pretty  for  this  house,  and 
so  I  tell  you." 

The  Hotel  de  Perou  stands  in  the  Rue  de  la  Hachette, 
not  twenty  steps  from  the  Place  de  Petit  Pont ;  and  no 
more  cruelly  sarcastic  title  could  ever  have  been  con- 
ferred on  a  building.  The  extreme  shabbiness  of  the 
exterior  of  the  house,  the  narrow,  muddy  street  in 
which  it  stood,  the  dingy  windows  covered  with  mud, 
and  repaired  with  every  variety  of  patch, — all  seemed 
to  cry  out  to  the  passers  by :  "  This  is  the  chosen  abode 
of  misery  and  destitution." 

The  observer  might  have  fancied  it  a  robbers'  den, 
but  he  would  have  been  wrong;  for  the  inhabitants 
were  fairly  honest.  The  Hotel  de  Perou  was  one  of 
those  refuges,  growing  scarcer  and  more  scarce  every 
day,  where  unhappy  men  and  women,  who  had  been 
worsted  in  the  battle  of  life,  could  find  a  shelter  in 


PUTTING   ON   THE   SCREW  3 

return  for  the  change  remaining  from  the  last  five-franc 
piece.  They  treat  it  as  the  shipwrecked  mariner  uses 
the  rock  upon  which  he  climbs  from  the  whirl  of  the 
angry  waters,  and  breathes  a  deep  sigh  of  relief  as  he 
collects  his  forces  for  a  fresh  effort.  However  wretched 
existence  may  be,  a  protracted  sojourn  in  such  a  shelter 
as  the  Hotel  de  Perou  would  be  out  of  the  question. 
The  chambers  in  every  floor  of  the  house  are  divided 
into  small  slips  by  partitions,  covered  with  canvas  and 
paper,  and  pleasantly  termed  rooms  by  M.  Loupins. 
The  partitions  were  in  a  terrible  condition,  rickety  and 
unstable,  and  the  paper  with  which  they  were  covered 
torn  and  hanging  down  in  tatters ;  but  the  state  of  the 
attics  was  even  more  deplorable,  the  ceilings  of  which 
were  so  low  that  the  occupants  had  to  stoop  continually, 
while  the  dormer  windows  admitted  but  a  small 
amount  of  light.  A  bedstead,  with  a  straw  mattress,  a 
rickety  table,  and  two  broken  chairs,  formed  the  sole 
furniture  of  these  rooms.  Miserable  as  these  dormi- 
tories were,  the  landlady  asked  and  obtained  twenty- 
two  francs  for  them  by  the  month,  as  there  was  a 
fireplace  in  each,  which  she  always  pointed  out  to  in- 
tending tenants. 

The  young  woman  whom  M.  Loupins  alluded  to  by 
the  name  of  Rose  was  seated  in  one  of  these  dreary 
dens  on  this  bitter  winter's  day.  Rose  was  an  exquis- 
itely beautiful  girl  about  eighteen  years  of  age.  She 
was  very  fair ;  her  long  lashes  partially  concealed  a  pair 
of  steely  blue  eyes,  and  to  a  certain  extent  relieved  their 
hard  expression.  Her  ripe,  red  lips,  which  seemed 
formed  for  love  and  kisses,  permitted  a  glimpse  of  a 
row  of  pearly  teeth.  Her  bright  waving  hair  grew  low 
down  upon  her  forehead,  and  such  of  it  as  had  escaped 
from  the  bondage  of  a  cheap  comb,  with  which  it  was 


4  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

fastened,  hung  in  wild  luxuriance  over  her  exquisitely 
shaped  neck  and  shoulders.  She  had  thrown  over  her 
ragged  print  gown  the  patched  coverlet  of  the  bed,  and, 
crouched  upon  the  tattered  hearthrug  before  the  hearth, 
upon  which  a  few  sticks  smouldered,  giving  out  hardly 
a  particle  of  heat,  she  was  telling  her  fortune  with  a 
dirty  pack  of  cards,  endeavoring  to  console  herself  for 
the  privations  of  the  day  by  the  promise  of  future  pros- 
perity. She  had  spread  those  arbiters  of  her  destiny 
in  a  half  circle  before  her,  and  divided  them  into  threes, 
each  of  which  had  a  peculiar  meaning,  and  her  breast 
rose  and  fell  as  she  turned  them  up  and  read  upon  their 
faces  good  fortune  or  ill-luck.  Absorbed  in  this  task, 
she  paid  but  little  attention  to  the  icy  chillness  of  the 
atmosphere,  which  made  her  fingers  stiff,  and  dyed  her 
white  hands  purple. 

"  One,  two,  three/'  she  murmured  in  a  low  voice. 
<e  A  fair  man,  that's  sure  to  be  Paul.  One,  two,  three, 
money  to  the  house.  One,  two,  three,  troubles  and 
vexations.  One,  two,  three,  the  nine  of  spades ;  ah,  dear ! 
more  hardships  and  misery, — always  that  wretched  card 
turning  up  with  its  sad  story !  " 

Rose  seemed  utterly  downcast  at  the  sight  of  the 
little  pieces  of  painted  cardboard,  as  though  she  had 
received  certain  intelligence  of  a  coming  misfortune. 
She  soon,  however,  recovered  herself,  and  was  again 
shuffling  the  pack, — cut  it,  taking  care  to  do  so  with 
her  left  hand,  spread  them  out  before  her,  and  again 
commenced  counting:  one,  two,  three.  This  time  the 
cards  appeared  to  be  more  propitious,  and  held  out 
promises  of  success  for  the  future. 

"  I  am  loved,"  read  she,  as  she  gazed  anxiously  upon 
them, — "very  much  loved!  Here  is  rejoicing,  and  a 
letter  from  a  dark  man !  See,  here  he  is, — the  knave 


PUTTING   ON   THE   SCREW  5 

of  clubs.    Always  the  same,"  she  continued ;  "  I  cannot 
strive  against  fate." 

Then,  rising  to  her  feet,  she  drew  from  a  crack  in 
the  wall,  which  formed  a  safe  hiding-place  for  her 
secrets,  a  soiled  and  crumpled  letter,  and,  unfolding  it, 
she  read  for  perhaps  the  hundredth  time  these  words : — 

"MADEMOISELLE, — 

"  To  see  you  is  to  love  you.  I  give  you  my  word  of 
honor  that  this  is  true.  The  wretched  hovel  where  your 
charms  are  hidden  is  no  fit  abode  for  you.  A  home, 
worthy  in  every  way  to  receive  you,  is  at  your  service — 
Rue  de  Douai.  It  has  been  taken  in  your  name,  as  I 
am  straightforward  in  these  matters.  Think  of  my 
proposal,  and  make  what  inquiries  you  like  concerning 
me.  I  have  not  yet  attained  my  majority,  but  shall  do 
so  in  five  months  and  three  days,  when  I  shall  inherit 
my  mother's  fortune.  My  father  is  wealthy,  but  old 
and  infirm.  From  four  to  six  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
next  few  days  I  will  be  in  a  carriage  at  the  corner  of 
the  Place  de  Petit  Pont. 

GASTON  DE  GANDELU." 

The  cynical  insolence  of  the  letter,  together  with  its 
entire  want  of  form,  was  a  perfect  example  of  the 
style  affected  by  those  loiterers  about  town,  known  to 
the  Parisians  as  "  mashers ; "  and  yet  Rose  did  not  ap- 
pear at  all  disgusted  by  the  reception  of  such  an  un- 
worthily worded  proposal,  but,  on  the  contrary,  rather 
pleased  by  its  contents.  "  If  I  only  dared,"  mused  she, 
with  a  sigh, — "  ah,  if  I  only  dared ! "  For  a  time  she 
sat  deeply  immersed  in  thought,  with  her  face  buried 
in  her  hands,  until  she  was  aroused  from  her  medita- 
tions by  the  sound  of  an  active  and  youthful  step  upon 
the  creaking  stairs.  "  He  has  come  back,"  she  gasped ; 
and  with  the  agile  movement  of  a  cat  she  again  con- 
cealed the  letter  in  its  hiding-place,  and  she  had  scarcely 


5  CAUGHT  IN  THE  NET 

done  so,  when  Paul  Yiolaine  entered  the  miserable 
room.  He  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-three,  of  slender 
figure,  but  admirably  proportioned.  His  face  was  a 
perfect  oval,  and  his  complexion  of  just  that  slight 
olive  tint  which  betrays  the  native  of  the  south  of 
France.  A  slight,  silky  moustache  concealed  his  upper 
lip,  and  gave  his  features  that  air  of  manliness  in  which 
they  would  have  otherwise  been  deficient.  His  curly 
chestnut  hair  fell  gracefully  over  a  brow  upon  which 
an  expression  of  pride  was  visible,  and  enhanced  the 
peculiar,  restless  glance  of  his  large  dark  eyes.  His 
physical  beauty,  which  was  fully  equal  to  that  of  Rose, 
was  increased  by  an  aristocratic  air,  popularly  believed 
to  be  only  found  in  the  scions  of  noble  families.  The 
landlady,  in  her  moments  of  good  humor,  used  to  assert 
her  belief  that  her  lodger  was  a  disguised  prince;  but 
if  this  were  the  case,  he  was  certainly  one  that  had  been 
overtaken  by  poverty.  His  dress,  to  which  the  closest 
attention  had  been  paid,  revealed  the  state  of  destitu- 
tion in  which  he  was, — not  the  destitution  which  openly 
asks  for  alms,  but  the  hidden  poverty  which  shuns  com- 
munication and  blushes  at  a  single  glance  of  pity.  In 
this  almost  Arctic  winter  he  wore  clothes  rendered  thin 
by  the  constant  friction  of  the  clothes  brush,  over  which 
was  a  light  overcoat  about  as  thick  as  the  web  of  a 
spider.  His  shoes  were  well  blacked,  but  their  condi- 
tion told  the  piteous  tale  of  long  walks  in  search  of 
employment,  or  of  that  good  luck  which  seems  to  evade 
its  pursuer. 

Paul  was  holding  a  roll  of  manuscript  ia  his  hand, 
and  as  he  entered  the  room  he  threw  it  on  the  bed  with 
a  despairing  gesture.  "  A  failure  again !  "  exclaimed 
he,  in  accents  of  the  utmost  depression,  "Nothing 
else  but  failures !  " 


PUTTING   ON   THE   SCREW  7 

The  young  woman  rose  hastily  to  her  feet;  she  ap- 
peared to  have  forgotten  the  cards  completely;  the 
smile  of  satisfaction  faded  from  her  face  and  her  feat- 
ures, and  an  expression  of  utter  weariness  took  its 
place. 

"  What !  no  success  ?  "  she  cried,  affecting  a  surprise 
which  was  evidently  assumed.  "  No  success,  after  all 
your  promises  when  you  left  me  this  morning  ?  " 

"This  morning,  Rose,  a  ray  of  hope  had  penetrated 
my  heart;  but  I  have  been  deceived,  or  rather  I  de- 
ceived myself,  and  I  took  my  ardent  desires  for  so 
many  promises  which  were  certain  to  be  fulfilled.  The 
people  that  I  have  been  to  have  not  even  the  kindness 
to  say  '  No  *  plain  and  flat ;  they  listen  to  all  you  have 
to  say,  and  as  soon  as  your  back  is  turned  they  forget 
your  existence.  The  coin  that  passes  around  in  this 
infernal  town  is  indeed  nothing  but  idle  words,  and 
that  is  all  that  poverty-stricken  talent  can  expect." 

A  silence  of  some  duration  ensued,  and  Paul  was 
too  much  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts  to  notice  the 
look  of  contempt  with  which  Rose  was  regarding  him. 
His  helpless  resignation  to  adverse  circumstances  ap- 
peared to  have  turned  her  to  stone. 

"  A  nice  position  we  are  in ! "  said  she  at  last.  "  What 
do  you  think  will  become  of  us?" 

"  Alas !  I  do  not  know/' 

"Nor  I.  Yesterday  Madame  Loupins  came  to  me 
and  asked  for  the  eleven  francs  we  owe  here;  and  told 
me  plainly  that  if  within  three  days  we  did  not  settle 
our  account,  she  would  turn  us  out;  and  I  know 
enough  of  her  to  be  sure  that  she  will  keep  her  word. 
The  detestable  old  hag  would  do  anything  for  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  me  on  the  streets." 

"  Alone  and  friendless  in  the  world,"  muttered  Paul, 


8  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

paying  but  little  attention  to  the  young  girl's  words, 
"  without  a  creature  or  a  relative  to  care  for  you,  or 
to  lend  you  a  helping  hand." 

"We  have  not  a  copper  in  the  world,"  continued 
Rose  with  cruel  persistency;  "I  have  sold  everything 
that  I  had,  to  preserve  the  rags  that  I  am  wearing. 
Not  a  scrap  of  wood  remains,  and  we  have  not  tasted 
food  since  yesterday  morning." 

To  these  words,  which  were  uttered  in  a  tone  of  the 
most  bitter  reproach,  the  young  man  made  no  reply, 
but  clasped  his  icily  cold  hands  against  his  forehead, 
as  though  in  utter  despair. 

"  Yes,  that  is  a  true  picture  of  our  position/'  resumed 
Rose  coldly,  her  accents  growing  more  and  more  con- 
temptuous. "And  I  tell  you  that  something  must  be 
done  at  once,  some  means  discovered,  I  care  not  what, 
to  relieve  us  from  our  present  miserable  state." 

Paul  tore  off  his  overcoat,  and  held  it  toward  her. 

"Take  it,  and  pawn  it,"  exclaimed  he;  but  the  girl 
made  no  move. 

"  Is  that  all  that  you  have  to  propose  ?  "  asked  she, 
in  the  same  glacial  tone. 

"They  will  lend  you  three  francs  upon  it,  and  with 
that  we  can  get  bread  and  fuel." 

"  And  after  that  is  gone?" 

"  After  that — oh,  we  will  think  of  our  next  step,  and 
shall  have  time  to  hit  upon  some  plan.  Time,  a  little 
time,  is  all  that  I  require,  Rose,  to  break  asunder  the 
bonds  which  seem  to  fetter  me.  Some  day  success 
must  crown  my  efforts;  and  with  success,  Rose,  dear, 
will  come  affluence,  but  in  the  meantime  we  must  learn 
to  wait." 

"And  where  are  the  means  to  enable  us  to  wait?" 


PUTTING   ON   THE   SCREW  9 

"  No  matter ;  they  will  come.  Only  do  what  I  tell 
you,  and  who  can  say  what  to-morrow " 

Paul  was  still  too  much  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts 
to  notice  the  expression  upon  the  young  girl's  face; 
for  had  he  done  so,  he  would  at  once  have  perceived 
that  she  was  not  in  the  humor  to  permit  the  matter  to 
be  shelved  in  this  manner. 

"  To-morrow !  "  she  broke  in  sarcastically.  "  To- 
morrow,— always  the  same  pitiful  cry.  For  months 
past  we  seem  to  have  lived  upon  the  word.  Look  you 
here,  Paul,  you  are  no  longer  a  child,  and  ought  to 
be  able  to  look  things  straight  in  the  face.  What  can 
I  get  on  that  threadbare  coat  of  yours  ?  Perhaps  three 
francs  at  the  outside.  How  many  days  will  that  last 
us?  We  will  say  three.  And  then,  what  then?  Be- 
sides, can  you  not  understand  that  your  dress  is  too 
shabby  for  you  to  make  an  impression  on  the  people 
you  go  to  see?  Well-dressed  applicants  only  have  at- 
tention, and  to  obtain  money,  you  must  appear  not  to 
need  it;  and,  pray,  what  will  people  think  of  you  if 
you  have  no  overcoat?  Without  one  you  will  look 
ridiculous,  and  can  hardly  venture  into  the  streets/' 

"Hush!"  cried  Paul,  "for  pity's  sake,  hush!  for 
your  words  only  prove  to  me  more  plainly  that  you  are 
like  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  that  want  of  success  is 
a  pernicious  crime  in  your  eyes.  You  once  had  con- 
fidence in  me,  and  then  you  spoke  in  a  very  different 
strain." 

"  Once  indeed !  but  then  I  did  not  know " 

"  No,  Rose,  it  was  not  what  you  were  then  ignorant 
of;  but  it  was  that  in  those  days  you  loved  me." 

"  Great  heavens !  I  ask  you,  have  I  left  one  stone 
unturned?  Have  I  not  gone  from  publisher  to  pub- 


10  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

lisher  to  sell  those  songs  of  my  own  composing — those 
songs  that  you  sing  so  well?  I  have  endeavored  to 
get  pupils.  What  fresh  efforts  can  I  try?  What 
would  you  do,  were  you  in  my  place?  Tell  me,  I  beg 
you/' 

And  as  Paul  spoke,  he  grew  more  and  more  excited, 
while  Rose  still  maintained  her  manner  of  exasperat- 
ing coolness. 

"  I  know  not,"  she  replied,  after  a  brief  pause ;  "  but 
if  I  was  a  man,  I  do  not  think  that  I  would  permit  the 
woman,  for  whom  I  pretended  that  I  had  the  most 
sincere  affection,  to  be  in  want  of  the  actual  necessities 
of  life.  I  would  strain  every  effort  to  obtain  them." 

"I  have  no  trade;  I  am  no  mechanic,"  broke  in  Paul 
passionately. 

"Then  I  would  learn  one.  Pray  how  much  does  a 
man  earn  who  climbs  the  ladder  with  a  bricklayer's 
hod  upon  his  shoulders?  It  may  be  hard  work,  I 
allow,  but  surely  the  business  is  not  difficult  to  learn. 
You  have,  or  say  you  have,  great  musical  talents.  I 
say  nothing  about  them;  but  had  I  any  vocal  powers 
and  if  there  was  not  a  morsel  to  eat  in  the  house,  I 
would  go  and  sing  in  the  taverns  or  even  in  the  public 
streets,  and  would  earn  money,  and  care  little  for  the 
means  by  which  I  made  it." 

"When  you  say  those  things,  you  seem  to  forget 
that  I  am  an  honest  man." 

"  One  would  really  suppose  that  I  had  suggested 
some  questionable  act  to  you.  Your  reply,  Paul,  plainly 
proves  to  me  that  you  are  one  of  those  who,  for  want 
of  determination,  fall,  helpless,  by  the  wayside  in  the 
journey  of  life.  They  flaunt  their  rags  and  tatters  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world,  and  with  saddened  hearts  and 
empty  stomachs  utter  the  boast,  '  I  am  an  honest  man/ 


PUTTING  ON   THE   SCREW  11 

Do  you  think  that,  in  order  to  be  rich,  you  must  per- 
force be  a  rogue?  This  is  simple  imbecility/' 

She  uttered  this  tirade  in  clear  and  vibrant  accents, 
and  her  eyes  gleamed  with  the  fire  of  savage  resolution. 
Her  nature  was  one  of  those  cruel  and  energetic  ones, 
which  lead  a  woman  to  hurl  a  man  from  the  brink  of 
the  abyss  to  which  she  has  conducted  him,  and  to  for- 
get him  before  he  has  ever  reached  the  bottom. 

This  torrent  of  sarcasm  brought  out  Paul's  real 
nature.  His  face  flushed,  and  rage  began  to  gain  the 
mastery  over  him.  "  Can  you  not  work  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  Why  do  you  not  do  something  instead  of  talking  so 
much?" 

"That  is  not  at  all  the  same  kind  of  thing,"  answered 
she  coolly.  "  I  was  not  made  for  work." 

Paul  made  a  threatening  gesture.  "  You  wretch !  " 
exclaimed  he. 

"  You  are  wrong,"  she  replied.  "  I  am  not  a  wretch ; 
I  am  simply  hungry." 

There  seemed  every  prospect  of  an  angry  scene, 
when  a  slight  sound  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
disputants,  and,  turning  round,  they  saw  an  old  man 
standing  upon  the  threshold  of  their  open  door.  He 
was  tall,  but  stooped  a  good  deal.  He  had  high,  thick 
brows,  and  a  red  nose;  a  long,  thick,  grizzly  beard 
covered  the  rest  of  his  countenance.  He  wore  a  pair 
of  spectacles  with  colored  glasses,  which,  to  a  great 
extent,  concealed  the  expression  of  his  face.  His  whole 
attire  indicated  extreme  poverty.  He  wore  a  greasy 
coat,  much  frayed  and  torn  at  the  pockets,  and  which 
had  carried  away  with  it  marks  of  all  the  walls  against 
which  it  had  been  rubbed  when  he  had  indulged  a  little 
too  freely  in  the  cheerful  glass.  He  seemed  to  belong 
to  that  class  who  consider  it  a  work  of  supererogation 


12  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

to  disrobe  before  going  to  bed,  and  who  just  turn  in 
on  such  spot  as  the  fancy  of  the  moment  may  dictate. 
Paul  and  Rose  both  recognized  the  old  man  from  hav- 
ing continually  met  him  when  ascending  or  descending 
the  staircase,  and  knew  that  he  rented  the  back  attic, 
and  was  called  Daddy  Tantaine.  In  an  instant  the  idea 
flashed  across  Paul's  mind  that  the  dilapidated  state  of 
the  partition  permitted  every  word  spoken  in  one  attic 
to  be  overheard  in  the  other,  and  this  did  not  tend  to 
soothe  his  exasperated  feelings. 

"  What  do  you  want  here,  sir  ?  "  asked  he  angrily. 
"  And,  pray,  who  gave  you  permission  to  enter  my 
room  without  leave  ?  " 

The  old  man  did  not  seem  at  all  put  out  by  the 
threatening  language  of  his  questioner.  et  I  should  be 
telling  a  fib,"  answered  he  calmly,  "  if  I  were  to  tell 
you  that,  being  in  my  own  room  and  hearing  you  quar- 
relling, I  did  not  hear  every  word  of  what  you  have 
been  saying." 

"  Sir ! " 

"  Stop  a  bit,  and  don't  be  in  such  a  hurry,  my  young 
friend.  You  seem  disposed  to  quarrel,  and,  on  my 
faith,  I  am  not  surprised ;  for  when  there  is  no  corn  in 
the  manger,  the  best  tempered  horse  will  bite  and 
kick." 

He  uttered  these  words  in  the  most  soothing  accents, 
and  appeared  utterly  unconscious  of  having  committed 
any  breach  of  etiquette  in  entering  the  room. 

"  Well,  sir/'  said  Paul,  a  flush  of  shame  passing 
across  his  face,  "  you  see  now  how  poverty  can  drag 
a  man  down.  Are  you  satisfied  ?  " 

"  Come,  come,  my  young  friend,"  answered  Daddy 
Tantaine,  "  you  should  not  get  angry ;  and  if  I  did  step 
in  without  any  notice,  it  was  because,  as  a  neighbor, 


PUTTING   ON   THE   SCREW  13 

I  find  I  might  venture  on  such  a  liberty;  for  when  I 
heard  how  embarrassed  you  were,  I  said  to  myself, 
'Tantaine,  perhaps  you  can  help  this  pretty  pair  out 
of  the  scrape  they  have  got  into/  " 

The  promise  of  assistance  from  a  person  who  had 
not  certainly  the  outward  appearance  of  a  capitalist 
seemed  so  ludicrous  to  Rose  that  she  could  not  restrain 
a  smile,  for  she  fancied  that  if  their  old  neighbor  was 
to  present  them  with  half  his  fortune,  it  might  possibly 
amount  to  twenty  centimes  or  thereabouts. 

Paul  had  formed  a  somewhat  similar  idea,  but  he 
was  a  little  touched  by  this  act  of  friendliness  on  the 
part  of  a  man  who  doubtless  knew  that  money  lent 
under  similar  circumstances  was  but  seldom  returned. 

"  Ah,  sir ! "  said  he,  and  this  time  he  spoke  in  softer 
accents,  "  what  can  you  possibly  do  for  us  ?  " 

"Who  can  say?" 

"  You  can  see  how  hard  we  are  pushed.  We  are  in 
want  of  almost  everything.  Have  we  not  reached  the 
acme  of  misery?" 

The  old  man  raised  his  hand  to  heaven,  as  if  to  seek 
for  aid  from  above. 

*You  have  indeed  come  to  a  terrible  pass,"  mur- 
mured he;  *but  all  is  not  yet  lost.  The  pearl  which 
lies  in  the  depths  of  the  ocean  is  not  lost  for  ever;  for 
may  not  some  skillful  diver  bring  it  to  the  surface? 
A  fisherman  may  not  be  able  to  do  much  with  it,  but 
he  knows  something  of  its  value,  and  hands  it  over  to 
the  dealer  in  precious  stones." 

He  intensified  his  speech  by  a  little  significant  laugh, 
the  meaning  of  which  was  lost  upon  the  two  young 
people  who,  though  their  evil  instincts  led  them  to  be 
greedy  and  covetous,  were  yet  unskilled  in  the  world's 
ways. 


14  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"I  should,"  remarked  Paul,  "be  a  fool  if  I  did  not 
accept  the  offer  of  your  kind  assistance." 

"There,  then,  that  is  right;  and  now  the  first  thing 
to  do  is  to  have  a  really  good  feed.  You  must  get  in 
some  wood  too,  for  it  is  frightfully  cold.  My  old 
bones  are  half  frozen;  and  afterward  we  will  talk  of  a 
fresh  rig  out  for  you  both." 

"Yes,"  remarked  Rose  with  a  faint  sigh;  "but  to 
do  all  that,  we  want  a  lot  of  money." 

"Well,  how  do  you  know  that  I  can't  find  it?" 

Daddy  Tantaine  unbuttoned  his  great  coat  with  grave 
deliberation,  and  drew  from  an  inner  pocket  a  small 
scrap  of  paper  which  had  been  fastened  to  the  lining 
by  a  pin.  This  he  unfolded  with  the  greatest  care  and 
laid  upon  the  table. 

"A  banknote  for  five  hundred  francs!"  exclaimed 
Rose,  with  extreme  surprise.  Paul  did  not  utter  a 
word.  Had  he  seen  the  woodwork  of  the  chair  upon 
which  he  was  leaning  burst  into  flower  and  leaf,  he 
could  not  have  looked  more  surprised.  Who  could 
have  expected  to  find  such  a  sum  concealed  beneath 
the  old  man's  tatters,  and  how  could  he  have  obtained 
so  much  money  ?  The  idea  that  some  robbery  had  been 
committed  at  once  occurred  to  both  the  young  people, 
and  they  exchanged  a  meaning  glance,  which,  however, 
did  not  escape  the  observation  of  their  visitor. 

"  Pooh,  pooh ! "  said  he,  without  appearing  in  the 
slightest  degree  annoyed.  "  You  must  not  give  way  to 
evil  thoughts  or  suspicions.  It  is  a  fact  that  banknotes 
for  five  hundred  francs  don't  often  grow  out  of  a 
ragged  pocket  like  mine.  But  I  got  this  fellow  hon- 
estly,— that  I  can  guarantee." 

Rose  paid  no  attention  to  his  words ;  indeed,  she  took 
no  interest  in  them.  The  note  was  there,  and  that  was 


PUTTING   ON   THE   SCREW  15 

enough  for  her.  She  took  it  up  and  smoothed  it  out 
as  though  the  crisp  paper  communicated  a  pleasant 
sensation  to  her  fingers. 

"  I  must  tell  you,"  resumed  Daddy  Tantaine,  "  that 
I  am  employed  by  a  sheriff's  officer,  and  that,  in  addi- 
tion, I  do  a  little  bill  collecting  for  various  persons. 
By  these  means  I  have  often  comparatively  large  sums 
in  my  possession,  and  I  can  lend  you  five  hundred 
francs  for  a  short  time  without  any  inconvenience  to 
myself." 

Paul's  necessities  and  conscience  were  fighting  a  hard 
battle,  and  he  remained  silent,  as  a  person  generally 
does  before  arriving  at  a  momentous  decision. 

At  length  he  broke  the  silence.  "  No,"  said  he, 
"  your  offer  is  one  that  I  cannot  accept,  for  I  feel " 

"This  is  no  time,  my  dear  Paul,  to  talk  of  feel- 
ings," interrupted  Rose;  "besides,  can  you  not  see 
that  our  refusal  to  accept  the  loan  annoys  this  worthy 
gentleman  ?  " 

"The  young  lady  is  quite  right,"  returned  Daddy 
Tantaine.  "  Come,  let  us  say  that  the  matter  is  settled. 
Go  out  and  get  in  something  to  eat,  sharp,  for  it  has 
struck  four  some  time  ago." 

At  these  words,  Rose  started,  and  a  scarlet  flush 
spread  over  her  cheek.  "  Four  o'clock,"  repeated  she, 
thinking  of  her  letter;  but  after  a  moment's  reflection 
she  stepped  up  to  the  cracked  mirror,  and,  arranging 
her  tattered  skirts,  took  up  the  banknote  and  left  the 
room. 

"  She  is  a  rare  beauty,"  remarked  Daddy  Tantaine 
with  the  air  of  one  who  was  an  authority  in  such  mat- 
ters, "  and  as  clever  as  they  make  them.  Ah !  if  she 
had  only  some  one  to  give  her  a  hint,  she  might  rise  to 
any  height/' 


16  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Paul's  ideas  were  in  such  a  wild  state  of  confusion, 
that  he  could  make  no  reply;  and,  now  that  he  was 
no  longer  held  in  thrall  by  Rose's  presence,  he  began 
to  be  terrified  at  what  had  taken  place,  for  he  imagined 
that  he  caught  a  sinister  expression  in  the  old  man's 
face  which  made  him  very  suspicious  of  the  wisdom 
of  the  course  he  had  been  persuaded  to  pursue.  Was 
there  ever  such  an  unheard-of  event  as  an  old  man  of 
such  a  poverty-stricken  appearance  showering  bank- 
notes upon  the  heads  of  perfect  strangers  ?  There  was 
certainly  something  mysterious  in  the  affair,  and  Paul 
made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  do  his  utmost  to  avoid 
being  compromised. 

"  I  have  thought  the  matter  over,"  said  he  resolutely ; 
"and  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  accept  the  loan  of  a 
sum  which  it  would  be  difficult  for  me  to  repay." 

"  My  dear  young  friend,  that  is  not  the  way  to  talk. 
If  you  do  not  have  a  good  opinion  of  yourself,  all  the 
world  will  judge  you  according  to  your  own  estimation. 
Your  inexperience  has,  up  to  this  time,  been  the  sole 
cause  of  your  failure.  Poverty  soon  changes  a  boy  into 
a  man  as  straw  ripens  fruit;  but  the  first  thing  you 
must  do  is  to  put  all  confidence  in  me.  You  can  repay 
the  five  hundred  francs  at  your  convenience,  but  I  must 
have  six  per  cent,  for  my  money  and  your  note  of 
hand." 

"But  really ,"  began  Paul. 

"I  am  looking  at  the  matter  in  a  purely  business 
light,  so  we  can  drop  sentiment." 

Paul  had  so  little  experience  in  the  ways  of  the 
world,  that  the  mere  fact  of  giving  his  acceptance  for 
the  money  borrowed  put  him  at  once  at  his  ease,  though 
he  knew  well  that  his  name  was  not  a  very  valuable 
addition  to  the  slip  of  paper. 


PUTTING  ON   THE   SCREW  17 

Daddy  Tantaine,  after  a  short  search  through  his 
pockets,  discovered  a  bill  stamp,  and,  placing  it  on  the 
table,  said,  "  Write  as  I  shall  dictate  :— 

'  On  the  8th  of  June,  188 — ,  I  promise  to  pay  to  M. 
Tantaine  or  order  the  sum  of  five  hundred  francs  for 
value  received,  such  sum  to  bear  interest  at  the  rate 
of  six  per  cent,  per  annum. 

<Frs.  500. 

'  PAUL  VIOLAINE.'  " 

The  young  man  had  just  completed  his  signature 
when  Rose  made  her  appearance,  bearing  a  plentiful 
stock  of  provisions  in  her  arms.  Her  eyes  had  a 
strange  radiance  in  them,  which  Paul,  however,  did 
not  notice,  as  he  was  engaged  in  watching  the  old 
man,  who,  after  carefully  inspecting  the  document, 
secured  it  in  one  of  the  pockets  of  his  ragged  coat. 

"You  will,  of  course,  understand,  sir/'  remarked 
Paul,  "  that  there  is  not  much  chance  of  my  being  able 
to  save  sufficient  to  meet  this  bill  in  four  months,  so 
that  the  date  is  a  mere  form." 

A  smile  of  benevolence  passed  over  Daddy  Tan- 
taine's  features.  "And  suppose,"  said  he,  "that  I, 
the  lender,  was  to  put  the  borrower  in  a  position  to 
repay  the  advance  before  a  month  had  passed  ?  " 

"  Ah !  but  that  is  not  possible." 

"  I  do  not  say,  my  young  friend,  that  I  could  do 
this  myself;  but  I  have  a  good  friend  whose  hand 
reaches  a  long  way.  If  I  had  only  listened  to  his 
advice  when  I  was  younger,  you  would  not  have 
caught  me  to-day  in  the  Hotel  de  Perou.  Shall  I  in- 
troduce you  to  him  ?  " 

"  Am  I  a  perfect  fool,  to  throw  away  such  a  chance  ?" 

"  Good !  I  shall  see  him  this  evening,  and  will 
snention  your  name  to  him.  Call  on  him  at  noon  to- 


18  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

morrow,  and  if  he  takes  a  fancy  to  you, — decides  to 
push  you,  your  future  is  assured,  and  you  will  have 
no  doubts  as  to  getting  on." 

He  took  out  a  card  from  his  pocket  and  handed  it  to 
Paul,  adding,  "  The  name  of  my  friend  is  Mascarin." 

Meanwhile  Rose,  with  a  true  Parisian's  handiness, 
had  contrived  to  restore  order  from  chaos,  and  had 
arranged  the  table,  with  its  one  or  two  pieces  of  broken 
crockery,  with  scraps  of  brown  paper  instead  of  plates. 
A  fresh  supply  of  wood  crackled  bravely  on  the  hearth, 
and  two  candles,  one  of  which  was  placed  in  a  chipped 
bottle,  and  the  other  in  a  tarnished  candlestick  belong- 
ing to  the  porter  of  the  hotel.  In  the  eyes  of  both 
the  young  people  the  spectacle  was  a  truly  delightful 
one,  and  Paul's  heart  swelled  with  triumph.  The  busi- 
ness had  been  satisfactorily  concluded,  and  all  his  mis- 
givings were  at  an  end. 

"  Come,  let  us  gather  round  the  festive  board,"  said 
he  joyously.  "This  is  breakfast  and  dinner  in  one. 
Rose,  be  seated;  and  you,  my  dear  friend,  will  surely 
share  with  us  the  repast  we  owe  to  you?" 

With  many  protestations  of  regret,  however,  Daddy 
Tantaine  pleaded  an  important  engagement  at  the  other 
end  of  Paris.  "And,"  added  he,  "it  is  absolutely 
necessary  that  I  should  see  Mascarin  this  evening,  for 
I  must  try  my  best  to  make  him  look  on  you  with  a 
favorable  eye." 

Rose  was  very  glad  when  the  old  man  took  his  de- 
parture, for  his  ugliness,  the  shabbiness  of  his  dress, 
and  his  general  aspect  of  dirt,  drove  away  all  the  feel- 
ings of  gratitude  she  ought  to  have  evinced,  and  in- 
spired in  her  loathing  and  repugnance ;  and  she  fancied 
that  his  eyes,  though  veiled  by  his  colored  glasses,  could 
detect  the  minutest  secrets  of  her  heart;  but  still  this 


PUTTING  ON   THE   SCREW  19 

did  not  prevent  her  putting  on  a  sweet  smile  and  en- 
treating him  to  remain. 

But  Daddy  Tantaine  was  resolute;  and  after  im- 
pressing upon  Paul  the  necessity  of  punctuality,  he 
went  away,  repeating,  as  he  passed  through  the  door, 
"  May  good  appetite  be  present  at  your  little  feast,  my 
dears." 

As  soon,  however,  as  the  door  was  closed  he  bent 
down  and  listened.  The  young  people  were  as  merry 
as  larks,  and  their  laughter  filled  the  bare  attic  of  the 
Hotel  de  Perou.  Why  should  not  Paul  have  been  in 
good  spirits  ?  He  had  in  his  pocket  the  address  of  the 
man  who  was  to  make  his  fortune,  and  on  the  chimney- 
piece  was  the  balance  of  the  banknote,  which  seemed 
to  him  an  inexhaustible  sum.  Rose,  too,  was  delighted, 
and  could  not  refrain  from  jeering  at  their  benefactor, 
whom  she  stigmatized  as  "an  old  idiot." 

"  Laugh  while  you  can,  my  dears ! "  muttered  Daddy 
Tantaine;  "  for  this  may  be  the  last  time  you  will  do 
so." 

With  these  words  he  crept  down  the  dark  staircase, 
which  was  only  lighted  up  on  Sundays,  owing  to  the 
high  price  of  gas,  and,  peeping  through  the  glass  door 
of  the  porter's  lodge,  saw  Madame  Loupins  engaged 
in  cooking;  and,  with  the  timid  knock  of  a  man  who 
has  learned  his  lesson  in  poverty's  grammar,  he  en- 
tered. 

"  Here  is  my  rent,  madame,"  said  he,  placing  on  the 
table  ten  francs  and  twenty  centimes.  Then,  as  the 
woman  was  scribbling  a  receipt,  he  launched  into  a 
statement  of  his  own  affairs,  and  told  her  that  he  had 
come  into  a  little  property  which  would  enable  him  to 
live  in  comfort  during  his  few  remaining  years  on 
earth ;  and — evidently  fearing  that  his  well-known  pov- 


20  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

erty  might  cause  Madame  Loupins  to  discredit  his 
assertions — drew  out  his  pocketbook  and  exhibited  sev- 
eral banknotes.  This  exhibition  of  wealth  so  surprised 
the  landlady,  that  when  the  old  man  left  she  insisted 
on  lighting  him  to  the  door.  He  turned  eastward  as 
soon  as  he  had  left  the  house,  and,  glancing  at  the 
names  of  the  shops,  entered  a  grocer's  establishment  at 
the  corner  of  the  Rue  de  Petit  Pont.  This  grocer, 
thanks  to  a  certain  cheap  wine,  manufactured  for  him 
by  a  chemist  at  Bergy,  had  achieved  a  certain  notoriety 
in  that  quarter.  He  was  very  stout  and  pompous,  a 
widower,  and  a  sergeant  in  the  National  Guard.  His 
name  was  Melusin.  In  all  poor  districts  five  o'clock 
is  a  busy  hour  for  the  shopkeepers,  for  the  workmen 
are  returning  from  their  labors,  and  their  wives  are 
busy  in  their  preparations  for  their  evening  meal.  M. 
Melusin  was  so  busily  engaged,  giving  orders  and  see- 
ing that  they  were  executed,  that  he  did  not  even 
notice  the  entrance  of  Daddy  Tantaine;  but  had  he 
done  so,  he  would  not  have  put  himself  out  for  so 
poorly  dressed  a  customer.  But  the  old  man  had  left 
behind  him  in  the  Hotel  de  Perou  every  sign  of  humil- 
ity and  servility,  and,  making  his  way  to  the  least 
crowded  portion  of  the  shop,  he  called  out  in  impera- 
tive accents,  "  M.  Melusin !  " 

Very  much  surprised,  the  grocer  ceased  his  avocation 
and  hastened  to  obey  the  summons.  "  How  the  deuce 
does  the  man  know  me  ?  "  muttered  he,  forgetting  that 
his  name  was  over  the  door  in  gilt  letters  fully  six 
inches  long. 

"  Sir,"  said  Daddy  Tantaine,  without  giving  the 
grocer  time  to  speak,  "  did  not  a  young  woman  come 
here  about  half  an  hour  ago  and  change  a  note  for  five 
hundred  francs?" 


PUTTING   ON   THE    SCREW  21 

"Most  certainly,"  answered  M.  Melusin;  "but  how 
did  you  know  that  ?  Ah,  I  have  it ! "  he  added,  strik- 
ing his  forehead ;  "  there  has  been  a  robbery,  and  you 
are  in  pursuit  of  the  criminal.  I  must  confess  that  the 
girl  looked  so  poor,  that  I  guessed  there  was  something 
wrong.  I  saw  her  fingers  tremble/' 

"  Pardon  me,"  returned  Daddy  Tantaine.  "  I  have 
said  nothing  about  a  robbery.  I  only  wished  to  ask 
you  if  you  would  know  the  girl  again  ?  " 

"  Perfectly — a  really  splendid  girl,  with  hair  that  you 
do  not  see  every  day.  I  have  reason  to  believe  that 
she  lives  in  the  Rue  Hachette.  The  police  are  not  very 
popular  with  the  shopkeeping  class;  but  the  latter,  de- 
sirous of  keeping  down  crime,  generally  afford  plenty 
of  information,  and  in  the  interests  of  virtue  will  even 
risk  losing  customers,  who  go  off  in  a  huff  at  not  being 
attended  to  while  they  are  talking  to  the  officers  of 
justice.  Shall  I,"  continued  the  grocer,  "  send  one  of 
the  errand  boys  to  the  nearest  police  station  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you,"  replied  Daddy  Tantaine.  "  I  should 
prefer  your  keeping  the  matter  quiet  until  I  communi- 
cate with  you  once  more." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  see;  a  false  step  just  now  would  put 
them  on  their  guard." 

"  Just  so.  Now,  will  you  let  me  have  the  number  of 
the  note,  if  you  still  have  it?  I  wish  you  also  to  make 
a  note  of  the  date  as  well  as  the  number." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  see,"  returned  the  grocer.  "  You  may 
require  my  books  as  corroborative  evidence;  that  is 
often  the  way.  Excuse  me ;  I  will  be  back  directly." 

All  that  Daddy  Tantaine  had  desired  was  executed 
with  the  greatest  rapidity,  and  he  and  the  grocer  parted 
on  the  best  terms,  and  the  tradesman  watched  his  vis- 
itor's departure,  perfectly  satisfied  that  he  had  been 


22  CAUGHT   IN  THE  NET 

assisting  a  police  officer  who  had  deemed  it  fit  to 
assume  a  disguise.  Daddy  Tantaine  cared  little  what 
he  thought,  and,  gaining  the  Place  de  Petit  Pont, 
stopped  and  gazed  around  as  if  he  was  waiting  for 
some  one.  Twice  he  walked  round  it  in  vain;  but  in 
his  third  circuit  he  came  to  a  halt  with  an  exclamation 
of  satisfaction,  for  he  had  seen  the  person  of  whom 
he  had  been  in  search,  who  was  a  detestable  looking 
youth  of  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  though  so  thin 
and  stunted  that  he  hardly  appeared  to  be  fifteen. 

The  lad  was  leaning  against  the  wall  of  the  Quay 
St.  Michel,  openly  asking  alms,  but  keeping  a  sharp 
lookout  for  the  police.  At  the  first  glance  it  was  easy 
to  detect  in  him  the  hideous  outgrowth  of  the  great 
city,  the  regular  young  rough  of  Paris,  who,  at  eight 
years  of  age,  smokes  the  butt  ends  of  cigars  picked  up 
at  the  tavern  doors  and  gets  tipsy  on  coarse  spirits. 
He  had  a  thin  crop  of  sandy  hair,  his  complexion  was 
dull  and  colorless,  and  a  sneer  curled  the  corners  of 
his  mouth,  which  had  a  thick,  hanging  underlip,  and 
his  eyes  had  an  expression  in  them  of  revolting  cynic- 
ism. His  dress  was  tattered  and  dirty,  and  he  had 
rolled  up  the  sleeve  of  his  right  arm,  exhibiting  a  de- 
formed limb,  sufficiently  repulsive  to  excite  the  pity 
of  the  passers  by.  He  was  repeating  a  monotonous 
whine,  in  which  the  words  "poor  workman,  arm  de- 
stroyed by  machinery,  aged  mother  to  support/1  oc- 
curred continually. 

Daddy  Tantaine  walked  straight  up  to  the  youth,  and 
with  a  sound  cuff  sent  his  hat  flying. 

The  lad  turned  sharply  round,  evidently  in  a  terri- 
ble rage;  but,  recognizing  his  assailant,  shrank  back, 
and  muttered  to  himself,  "  Landed !  "  In  an  instant  he 
restored  his  arm  to  its  originally  healthy  condition,  and, 


PUTTING   ON   THE    SCREW  23 

picking  up  his  cap,  replaced  it  on  his  head,  and  humbly 
waited  for  fresh  orders. 

"  Is  this  the  way  you  execute  your  errands  ?  "  asked 
Daddy  Tantaine,  snarling. 

"What  errands?     I  have  heard  of  none!" 

"  Never  you  mind  that.  Did  not  M.  Mascarin,  on 
my  recommendation,  put  you  in  a  way  of  earning  your 
livelihood?  and  did  you  not  promise  to  give  up  beg- 
ging?" 

"  Beg  pardon,  guVnor,  I  meant  to  be  on  the  square, 
but  I  didn't  like  to  waste  time  while  I  was  a-waiting. 
I  don't  like  a-being  idle  and  I  have  copped  seven 
browns." 

"  Toto  Chupin,"  said  the  old  man,  with  great  sever- 
ity, "  you  will  certainly  come  to  a  bad  end.  But  come, 
give  your  report.  What  have  you  seen  ?  " 

During  this  conversation  they  were  walking  slowly 
along  the  quay,  and  had  passed  the  Hotel  Dieu. 

"  Well,  guv'nor,"  replied  the  young  rogue,  "  I  just 
saw  what  you  said  I  should.  At  four  sharp,  a  carriage 
drove  into  the  Place,  and  pulled  up  bang  opposite  the 
wigfaker's.  Dash  me,  if  it  weren't  a  swell  turnout! 
— horse,  coachman,  and  all,  in  real  slap-up  style.  It 
waited  so  long  that  I  thought  it  had  taken  root  there." 

tc  Come,  get  on  !    Was  there  any  one  inside  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  there  was !  I  twigged  him  at  once, 
by  the  description  you  gave  me.  I  never  see  a  cove 
togged  out  as  he  was, — tall  hat,  light  sit-down-upons, 
and  a  short  coat — wasn't  it  cut  short!  but  in  really 
bang-up  style.  To  be  certain,  I  went  right  up  to  him, 
for  it  was  getting  dark,  and  had  a  good  look  at  him. 
He  had  got  out  of  the  trap,  and  was  marching  up  and 
down  the  pavement,  with  an  unlighted  cigar  stuck  in 
his  mouth.  I  took  a  match,  and  said,  'Have  a  light, 


24  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

my  noble  swell  ? '  and  hanged  if  he  didn't  give  me  ten 
centimes!  My!  ain't  he  ugly! — short,  shrivelled  up, 
and  knock-kneed,  with  a  glass  in  his  eye,  and  altogether 
precious  like  a  monkey." 

Daddy  Tantaine  began  to  grow  impatient  with  all 
this  rigmarole.  "  Come,  tell  me  what  took  place,"  said 
he  angrily. 

"  Precious  little.  The  young  swell  didn't  seem  to 
care  about  dirtying  his  trotter-cases;  he  kept  slashing 
about  with  his  cane,  and  staring  at  all  the  gals.  What 
an  ass  that  masher  is !  Wouldn't  I  have  liked  to  have 
punched  his  head !  If  you  ever  want  to  hide  him, 
daddy,  please  think  of  yours  truly.  He  wouldn't  stand 
up  to  me  for  five  minutes." 

"Go  on,  my  lad;  go  on." 

"  Well,  we  had  waited  half  an  hour,  when  all  at  once 
a  woman  came  sharp  round  the  corner,  and  stops  be- 
fore the  masher.  Wasn't  she  a  fine  gal!  and  hadn't 
she  a  pair  of  sparklers !  but  she  had  awfully  seedy  togs 
on.  But  they  spoke  in  whispers." 

"So  you  did  not  hear  what  they  said?" 

"Do  you  take  me  for  a  flat?  The  gal  said,  'Do 
you  understand? — to-morrow.'  Then  the  swell  chap, 
says  he,  *  Do  you  promise  ? '  and  the  gal,  she  answers 
back,  *  Yes,  at  noon.'  Then  they  parted.  She  went  off 
to  the  Rue  Hachette,  and  the  masher  tumbled  into  his 
wheelbox.  The  jarvey  cracked  his  whip,  and  off  they 
went  in  a  brace  of  shakes.  Now  hand  over  them  five 
francs." 

Daddy  Tantaine  did  not  seem  surprised  at  this  re- 
quest, and  he  gave  over  the  money  to  the  young  loafer, 
with  the  words,  "  When  I  promise,  I  pay  down  on  the 
nail ;  but  remember,  Toto  Chupin,  you'll  come  to  grief  one 
day.  Good-night.  Our  ways  lie  in  different  directions." 


A   REGISTRY   OFFICE  25 

The  old  man,  however,  lingered  until  he  had  seen 
the  lad  go  off  toward  the  Jardin  des  Plantes,  and  then, 
turning  round,  went  back  by  the  way  he  had  come. 
"I  have  not  lost  my  day,"  murmured  he.  "All  the 
improbabilities  have  turned  out  certainties,  and  matters 
are  going  straight.  Won't  Flavia  be  awfully  pleased?  " 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  REGISTRY  OFFICE. 

THE  establishment  of  the  influential  friend  of  Daddy 
Tantaine  was  situated  in  the  Rue  Montorgeuil,  not  far 
from  the  Passage  de  la  Reine  Hortense.  M.  B.  Mas- 
carin  has  a  registry  office  for  the  engagement  of  both 
male  and  female  servants.  Two  boards  fastened  upon 
each  side  of  the  door  announce  the  hours  of  opening 
and  closing,  and  give  a  list  of  those  whose  names  are 
on  the  books;  they  further  inform  the  public  that  the 
establishment  was  founded  in  1844,  and  is  still  in  the 
same  hands.  It  was  the  long  existence  of  M.  Mascarin 
in  a  business  which  is  usually  very  short-lived  that 
had  obtained  for  him  a  great  amount  of  confidence, 
not  only  in  the  quarter  in  which  he  resided,  but 
throughout  the  whole  of  Paris.  Employers  say  that 
he  sends  them  the  best  of  servants,  and  the  domestics 
in  their  turn  assert  that  he  only  despatches  them  to 
good  places.  But  M.  Mascarin  has  still  further  claims 
on  the  public  esteem;  for  it  was  he  who,  in  1845, 
founded  and  carried  out  a  project  which  had  for  its 
aim  and  end  the  securing  of  a  shelter  for  servants  out 
of  place.  The  better  to  carry  out  this,  Mascarin  took 
a  partner,  and  gave  him  the  charge  of  a  furnished 


26  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

house  close  to  the  office.  Worthy  as  these  projects 
were,  Mascarin  contrived  to  draw  considerable  profit 
from  them,  and  was  the  owner  of  the  house  before 
which,  in  the  noon  of  the  day  following  the  events  we 
have  described,  Paul  Violaine  might  have  been  seen 
standing.  The  five  hundred  francs  of  old  Tantaine, 
or  at  any  rate  a  portion  of  them,  had  been  well  spent, 
and  his  clothes  did  credit  to  his  own  taste  and  the  skill 
of  his  tailor.  Indeed,  in  his  fine  feathers  he  looked  so 
handsome,  that  many  women  turned  to  gaze  after  him. 
He  however  took  but  little  notice  of  this,  for  he  was 
too  full  of  anxiety,  having  grave  doubts  as  to  the 
power  of  the  man  whom  Tantaine  had  asserted  could, 
if  he  liked,  make  his  fortune.  "A  registry  office!" 
muttered  he  scornfully.  "Is  he  going  to  propose  a 
berth  of  a  hundred  francs  a  month  to  me?"  He  was 
much  agitated  at  the  thoughts  of  the  impending  inter- 
view, and,  before  entering  the  house,  gazed  upon  its 
exterior  with  great  interest.  The  house  much  resem- 
bled its  neighbors.  The  entrances  to  the  Registry  Office 
and  the  Servants'  Home  were  in  a  courtyard,  at  the 
arched  entrance  to  which  stood  a  vendor  of  roast  chest- 
nuts. 

"There  is  no  use  in  remaining  here,"  said  Paul. 
Summoning,  therefore,  all  his  resolution,  he  crossed  t'tie 
courtyard,  and,  ascending  a  flight  of  stairs,  pause  ti 
before  a  door  upon  which  "  OFFICE  "  was  written. 
"  Come  in ! "  responded  at  once  to  his  knock.  He 
pushed  open  the  door,  and  entered  a  room,  which 
closely  resembled  all  other  similar  offices.  There  were 
seats  all  round  the  room,  polished  by  frequent  use. 
At  the  end  was  a  sort  of  compartment  shut  in  by  a 
green  baize  curtain,  jestingly  termed  "the  Confes- 
sional "  by  the  frequenters  of  the  office.  Between  the 


A   REGISTRY   OFFICE  27 

windows  was  a  tin  plate,  with  the  words,  "All  fees  to 
be  paid  in  advance,"  in  large  letters  upon  it.  In  one 
corner  a  gentleman  was  seated  at  a  writing  table,  who, 
as  he  made  entries  in  a  ledger,  was  talking  to  a  woman 
who  stood  beside  him. 

"M.  Mascarin?"  asked  Paul  hesitatingly. 

"What  do  you  want  with  him?"  asked  the  man, 
without  looking  up  from  his  work.  "  Do  you  wish  to 
enter  your  name?  We  have  now  vacancies  for  three 
bookkeepers,  a  cashier,  a  confidential  clerk — six  other 
good  situations.  Can  you  give  good  references  ?  " 

These  words  seemed  to  be  uttered  by  rote. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  returned  Paul ;  "  but  I  should 
like  to  see  M.  Mascarin.  One  of  his  friends  sent  me 
here." 

This  statement  evidently  impressed  the  official,  and 
he  replied  almost  politely,  "  M.  Mascarin  is  much  oc- 
cupied at  present,  sir;  but  he  will  soon  be  disengaged. 
Pray  be  seated." 

Paul  sat  down  on  a  bench,  and  examined  the  man 
who  had  just  spoken  with  some  curiosity.  M.  Mas- 
carin's  partner  was  a  tall  and  athletic  man,  evidently 
enjoying  the  best  of  health,  and  wearing  a  large  mous- 
tache elaborately  waxed  and  pointed.  His  whole  ap- 
pearance betokened  the  old  soldier.  He  had,  so  he 
asserted,  served  in  the  cavalry,  and  it  was  there  that 
he  had  acquired  the  soubriquet  by  which  he  was  known 
— Beaumarchef,  his  original  name  being  David.  He 
was  about  forty-five,  but  was  still  considered  a  very 
good-looking  fellow.  The  entries  that  he  was  making 
in  the  ledger  did  not  prevent  him  from  keeping  up  a 
conversation  with  the  woman  standing  by  him.  The 
woman,  who  seemed  to  be  a  cross  between  a  cook  and 
a  market-woman,  might  be  described  as  a  thoroughly 


28  CAUGHT    IN    THE   NET 

jovial  soul.  She  seasoned  her  conversation  with  pinches 
of  snuff,  and  spoke  with  a  strong  Alsatian  brogue. 

"  Now,  look  here/'  said  Beaumarchef ;  **  do  you 
really  mean  to  say  that  you  want  a  place  ?  " 

"  I  do  that." 

"  You  said  that  six  months  ago.  We  got  you  a 
splendid  one,  and  three  days  afterward  you  chucked 
up  the  whole  concern." 

"  And  why  shouldn't  I  ?  There  was  no  need  to 
work  then;  but  now  it  is  another  pair  of  shoes,  for  I 
have  spent  nearly  all  I  had  saved." 

Beaumarchef  laid  down  his  pen,  and  eyed  her  curi- 
ously for  a  second  or  two ;  then  he  said, — 

"You've  been  making  a  fool  of  yourself  somehow, 
I  expect." 

She  half  turned  away  her  head,  and  began  to  com- 
plain of  the  hardness  of  the  terms  and  of  the  mean- 
ness of  the  mistresses,  who,  instead  of  allowing  their 
cooks  to  do  the  marketing,  did  it  themselves,  and  so 
cheated  their  servants  out  of  their  commissions. 

Beaumarchef  nodded,  just  as  he  had  done  half  an 
hour  before  to  a  lady  who  had  complained  bitterly  of 
the  misconduct  of  her  servants.  He  was  compelled  by 
his  position  to  sympathize  with  both  sides. 

The  woman  had  now  finished  her  tirade,  and  drawing 
the  amount  of  the  fee  from  a  well-filled  purse,  placed 
it  on  the  table,  saying, — 

"  Please,  M.  Beaumarchef,  register  my  name  as  Car- 
oline Scheumal,  and  get  me  a  real  good  place.  It  must 
be  a  cook,  you  understand,  and  I  want  to  do  the  mar- 
keting without  the  missus  dodging  around.** 

"  Well,  111  do  my  best." 

"Try  and  find  me  a  wealthy  widower,  or  a  young 
woman  married  to  a  very  old  fellow.  Now,  do  look 


A   REGISTRY   OFFICE  29 

round;  111  drop  in  again  to-morrow;"  and  with  a 
farewell  pinch  of  snuff,  she  left  the  office. 

Paul  listened  to  this  conversation  with  feelings  of 
anger  and  humiliation,  and  in  his  heart  cursed  old 
Tantaine  for  having  introduced  him  into  such  com- 
pany. He  was  seeking  for  some  plausible  excuse  for 
withdrawal,  when  the  door  at  the  end  of  the  room 
was  thrown  open,  and  two  men  came  in,  talking  as 
they  did  so.  The  one  was  young  and  well  dressed, 
with  an  easy,  swaggering  manner,  which  ignorant  peo- 
ple mistake  for  good  breeding.  He  had  a  many-col- 
ored rosette  at  his  buttonhole,  showing  that  he  was 
the  knight  of  more  than  one  foreign  order.  The  other 
was  an  elderly  man,  with  an  unmistakable  legal  air 
about  him.  He  was  dressed  in  a  quilted  dressing-gown, 
fur-lined  shoes,  and  had  on  his  head  an  embroidered 
cap,  most  likely  the  work  of  the  hands  of  some  one 
dear  to  him.  He  wore  a  white  cravat,  and  his  sight 
compelled  him  to  use  colored  glasses. 

"  Then,  my  dear  sir/'  said  the  younger  man,  "  I  may 
venture  to  entertain  hopes?" 

"  Remember,  Marquis,"  returned  the  other,  "  that 
if  I  were  acting  alone,  what  you  require  would  be  at 
once  at  your  disposal.  Unfortunately,  I  have  others 
to  consult." 

"  I  place  myself  entirely  in  your  hands,"  replied  the 
Marquis. 

The  appearance  of  the  fashionably  dressed  young 
man  reconciled  Paul  to  the  place  in  which  he  was. 

"  A  Marquis !  "  he  murmured ;  "  and  the  other  swell- 
looking  fellow  must  be  M.  Mascarin." 

Paul  was  about  to  step  forward,  when  Beaumarchef 
respectfully  accosted  the  last  comer, — 

"  Who  do  you  think,  sir,"  said  he,  "I  have  just  seen  ?" 


30  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"Tell  me  quickly/'  was  the  impatient  reply. 

"  Caroline  Schimmel ;  you  know  who  I  mean." 

"  What !  the  woman  who  was  in  the  service  of  the 
Duchess  of  Champdoce?" 

"Exactly  so." 

M.  Mascarin  uttered  an  exclamation  of  delight. 

te  Where  is  she  living  now  ?  " 

Beaumarchef  was  utterly  overwhelmed  by  this  sim- 
ple question.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  had 
omitted  to  take  a  client's  address.  This  omission  made 
Mascarin  so  angry  that  he  forgot  all  his  good  manners, 
and  broke  out  with  an  oath  that  would  have  shamed  a 
London  cabman, — 

"  How  could  you  be  such  an  infernal  fool  ?  We 
have  been  hunting  for  this  woman  for  five  months. 
You  knew  this  as  well  as  I  did,  and  yet,  when  chance 
brings  her  to  you,  you  let  her  slip  through  your  fingers 
and  vanish  again." 

"  She'll  be  back  again,  sir ;  never  fear.  She  won't 
fling  away  the  money  that  she  has  paid  for  fees." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  that  she  cares  for  ten  sous 
or  ten  francs?  She'll  be  back  when  she  thinks  she  will ; 
but  a  woman  who  drinks  and  is  off  her  head  nearly 
all  the  year  round " 

Inspired  by  a  sudden  thought,  Beaumarchef  made  a 
clutch  at  his  hat. 

"She  has  only  just  gone,"  said  he;  "I  can  easily 
overtake  her." 

But  Mascarin  arrested  his  progress. 

"  You  are  not  a  good  bloodhound.  Take  Toto  Chupin 
with  you;  he  is  outside  with  his  chestnuts,  and  is  as 
fly  as  they  make  them.  If  you  catch  her  up,  don't  say 
a  word,  but  follow  her  up,  and  see  where  she  goes. 
I  want  to  know  her  whole  daily  life.  Remember  that 


A   REGISTRY   OFFICE  31 

no  item,  however  unimportant  it  may  seem,  is  not  of 
consequence." 

Beaumarchef  disappeared  in  an  instant,  and  Mas- 
carin  continued  to  grumble.  ^ 

"What  a  fool!"  he  murmured.  "If  I  could  only 
do  everything  myself.  I  worried  my  life  out  for 
months,  trying  to  find  the  clue  to  the  mystery  which 
this  woman  holds,  and  now  she  has  again  escaped 
me." 

Paul,  who  saw  that  his  presence  was  not  remarked, 
coughed  to  draw  attention  to  it.  In  an  instant  Mascarin 
turned  quickly  round. 

"Excuse  me,"  said  Paul;  but  the  set  smile  had  al- 
ready resumed  its  place  upon  Mascarin's  countenance. 

"You  are,"  remarked  he,  civilly,  "Paul  Violaine, 
are  you  not  ?  " 

The  young  man  bowed  in  assent. 

"  Forgive  my  absence  for  an  instant.  I  will  be  back 
directly,"  said  Mascarin. 

He  passed  through  the  door,  and  in  another  instant 
Paul  heard  his  name  called. 

Compared  to  the  outer  chamber,  Mascarin's  office 
was  quite  a  luxurious  apartment,  for  the  windows  were 
bright,  the  paper  on  the  walls  fresh,  and  the  floor 
carpeted.  But  few  of  the  visitors  to  the  office  could 
boast  of  having  been  admitted  into  this  sanctum;  for 
generally  business  was  conducted  at  Beaumarchefs 
table  in  the  outer  room.  Paul,  however,  who  was  un- 
acquainted with  the  prevailing  rule,  was  not  aware  of 
the  distinction  with  which  he  had  been  received.  Mas- 
carin, on  his  visitor's  entrance,  was  comfortably  seated 
in  an  armchair  before  the  fire,  with  his  elbow  on  his 
desk — and  what  a  spectacle  did  that  desk  present !  It 
was  a  perfect  world  in  itself,  and  indicated  that  its 


32  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

proprietor  was  a  man  of  many  trades.  It  was  piled 
with  books  and  documents,  while  a  great  deal  of  the 
space  was  occupied  by  square  pieces  of  cardboard,  upon 
each  of  which  was  a  name  in  large  letters,  while  under- 
neath was  writing  in  very  minute  characters. 

With  a  benevolent  gesture,  Mascarin  pointed  to  an 
armchair,  and  in  encouraging  tones  said,  "And  now 
let  us  talk." 

It  was  plain  to  Paul  that  Mascarin  was  not  acting, 
but  that  the  kind  and  patriarchal  expression  upon  his 
face  was  natural  to  it,  and  the  young  man  felt  that  he 
could  safely  intrust  his  whole  future  to  him. 

"I  have  heard,"  commenced  Mascarin,  "that  your 
means  of  livelihood  are  very  precarious,  or  rather  that 
you  have  none,  and  are  ready  to  take  the  first  one  that 
offers  you  a  means  of  subsistence.  That,  at  least,  is 
what  I  hear  from  my  poor  friend  Tantaine." 

"  He  has  explained  my  case  exactly." 

"  Good ;  only  before  proceeding  to  the  future,  let  us 
speak  of  the  past/' 

Paul  gave  a  start,  which  Mascarin  noticed,  for  he 
added  — 

"  You  will  excuse  the  freedom  I  am  taking ;  but  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  that  I  should  know  to  what  I  am 
binding  myself.  Tantaine  tells  me  that  you  are  a 
charming  young  man,  strictly  honest,  and  well  edu- 
cated; and  now  that  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meet- 
ing you,  I  am  sure  that  he  is  right;  but  I  can  only 
deal  with  proofs,  and  must  be  quite  certain  before  1 
act  on  your  behalf  with  third  parties." 

"I  have  nothing  to  conceal,  sir,  and  am  ready  to 
answer  any  questions/'  responded  Paul. 

A  slight  smile,  which  Paul  did  not  detect,  played 
round  the  corners  of  Mascarin's  mouth,  and,  with  a 


A   REGISTRY   OFFICE  33 

gesture,  with  which  all  who  knew  him  were  familiar, 
he  pushed  back  his  glasses  on  his  nose. 

"I  thank  you/'  answered  he ;  "  it  is  not  so  easy  as 
you  may  suppose  to  hide  anything  from  me."  He 
took  one  of  the  packets  of  pasteboard  slips  from  his 
desk,  and  shuffling  them  like  a  pack  of  cards,  con- 
tinued, "Your  name  is  Marie  Paul  Violaine.  You 
were  born  at  Poitiers,  in  the  Rue  des  Vignes,  on  the 
5th  of  January,  1843,  and  are  therefore  in  your  twenty- 
fourth  year." 

"That  is  quite  correct,  sir." 

"You  are  an  illegitimate  child?" 

The  first  question  had  surprised  Paul;  the  second 
absolutely  astounded  him. 

"  Quite  true,  sir,"  replied  he,  not  attempting  to  hide 
his  surprise ;  "  but  I  had  no  idea  that  M.  Tantaine  was 
so  well  informed;  the  partition  which  divided  our 
rooms  must  have  been  thinner  than  I  thought." 

Mascarin  took  no  notice  of  this  remark,  but  con- 
tinued to  shuffle  and  examine  his  pieces  of  cardboard. 
Had  Paul  caught  a  clear  glimpse  of  these,  he  would 
have  seen  his  initials  in  the  corner  of  each. 

"Your  mother/'  went  on  Mascarin,  "kept,  for  the 
last  fifteen  years  of  her  life,  a  little  haberdasher's  shop." 

"Just  so." 

"  But  a  business  of  that  description  in  a  town  like 
Poitiers,  does  not  bring  in  very  remunerative  results, 
and  luckily  she  received  for  your  support  and  educa- 
tion a  sum  of  one  thousand  francs  per  year.'' 

This  time  Paul  started  from  his  seat,  for  he  was 
sure  that  Tantaine  could  not  have  learned  this  secret 
at  the  Hotel  de  Perou. 

"  Merciful  powers,  sir ! "  cried  he ;  "  who  could  have 
told  you  a  thing  that  has  never  passed  my  lips  since 


34  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

my  arrival  in  Paris,  and  of  which  even  Rose  is  en- 
tirely ignorant  ? " 

Mascarin  raised  his  shoulders. 

"You  can  easily  comprehend,"  remarked  he,  "that 
a  man  in  my  line  of  business  has  to  learn  many  things. 
If  I  did  not  take  the  greatest  precautions,  I  should  be 
deceived  daily,  and  so  lead  others  into  error." 

Paul  had  not  been  more  than  an  hour  in  the  office, 
but  the  directions  given  to  Beaumarchef  had  already 
taught  him  how  many  of  these  events  were  arranged. 

"  Though  I  may  be  curious,"  went  on  Mascarin,  "  I 
am  the  symbol  of  discretion;  so  answer  me  frankly: 
How  did  your  mother  receive  this  annuity?" 

"Through  a  Parisian  solicitor/' 

"  Do  you  know  him  ?  " 

"Not  at  all/'  answered  Paul,  who  had  begun  to 
grow  uneasy  under  this  questioning,  for  a  kind  of 
vague  apprehension  was  aroused  in  his  mind,  and  he 
could  not  see  the  utility  of  any  of  these  interrogations. 
There  was,  however,  nothing  in  Mascarin's  manner  to 
justify  the  misgivings  of  the  young  man,  for  he  ap- 
peared to  ask  all  these  questions  in  quite  a  matter-of- 
course  way,  as  if  they  were  purely  affairs  of  business. 

After  a  protracted  silence,  Mascarin  resumed, — 

"  I  am  half  inclined  to  believe  that  the  solicitor  sent 
the  money  on  his  own  account." 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  Paul.  "  I  am  sure  you  are 
mistaken." 

"  Why  are  you  so  certain  ?  " 

"Because  my  mother,  who  was  the  incarnation  of 
truth,  often  assured  me  that  my  father  died  before  my 
birth.  Poor  mother !  I  loved  and  respected  her  too 
much  to  question  her  on  these  matters.  One  day,  how- 
ever, impelled  by  an  unworthy  feeling  of  curiosity,  I 


A   REGISTRY   OFFICE  35 

dared  to  ask  her  the  name  of  our  protector.  She  burst 
into  tears,  and  then  I  felt  how  mean  and  cruel  I  had 
been.  I  never  learned  his  name  but  I  know  that  ha 
was  not  my  father." 

Mascarin  affected  not  to  notice  the  emotion  of  his 
young  client. 

"  Did  the  allowance  cease  at  your  mother's  death  ?  " 
continued  he. 

"No;  it  was  stopped  when  I  came  of  age.  My 
mother  told  me  that  this  would  be  the  case;  but  it 
seems  only  yesterday  that  she  spoke  to  me  of  it.  It 
was  on  my  birthday,  and  she  had  prepared  a  little 
treat  for  my  supper;  for  in  spite  of  the  affliction  my 
birth  had  caused  her,  she  loved  me  fondly.  Poor 
mother !  '  Paul,'  said  she,  '  at  your  birth  a  genuine 
friend  promised  to  help  me  to  bring  up  and  educate 
you,  and  he  kept  his  word.  But  you  are  now  twenty- 
one,  and  must  expect  nothing  more  from  him.  My  son, 
you  are  a  man  now,  and  I  have  only  you  to  look  to. 
Work  and  earn  an  honest  livelihood ' " 

Paul  could  proceed  no  farther,  for  his  emotions 
choked  him. 

"  My  mother  died  suddenly  some  ten  months  after 
this  conversation — without  time  to  communicate  any- 
thing to  me,  and  I  was  left  perfectly  alone  in  the  world ; 
and  were  I  to  die  to-morrow,  there  would  not  be  a 
soul  to  follow  me  to  my  grave." 

Mascarin  put  on  a  sympathetic  look. 
•     "  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  my  young  friend ;  I  trust 
that  you  have  one  now." 

Mascarin  rose  from  his  seat,  and  for  a  few  minutes 
paced  up  and  down  the  room,  and  then  halted,  with 
his  arms  folded,  before  the  young  man. 

"  You  have  heard  me,"  said  he,  "  and  I  will  not  put 


36  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

any  further  questions  which  it  will  but  pai»  you  to 
reply  to,  for  I  only  wished  to  take  your  measure,  and 
to  judge  of  your  truth  from  your  replies.  You  will 
ask  why?  Ah,  that  is  a  question  I  cannot  answer  to- 
day, but  you  shall  know  later  on.  Be  assured,  however, 
that  I  know  everything  about  you,  but  I  cannot  tell 
you  by  what  means.  Say  it  has  all  happened  by  chance. 
Chance  has  broad  shoulders,  and  can  bear  a  great  deal." 

This  ambiguous  speech  caused  a  thrill  of  terror  to 
pass  through  Paul,  which  was  plainly  visible  on  his 
expressive  features. 

"Are  you  alarmed?"  asked  Mascarin,  readjusting 
his  spectacles. 

"  I  am  much  surprised,  sir,"  stammered  Pa»l. 

'"Come,  come!  what  can  a  man  in  yoor  circum- 
stances have  to  fear?  There  is  no  use  in  racking-  your 
brain;  you  will  find  out  all  you  want  quickly  enough, 
and  had  best  make  up  your  mind  to  place  yourself  in 
my  hands  without  reserve,  for  my  sole  desire  is  to  be 
of  service  to  you/' 

These  words  were  uttered  in  the  most  benevolent 
manner;  and  as  he  resumed  his  seat,  he  added, — 

"  Now  let  us  talk  of  yourself.  Your  mother,  whom 
you  justly  say  was  a  thoroughly  good  woman,  pinched 
herself  in  order  to  keep  you  at  college  at  Poitiers.  You 
entered  a  solicitor's  office  at  eighteen,  I  think  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"But  your  mother's  desire  was  to  see  you  estab- 
lished at  Loudon  or  Cevray.  Perhaps  she  hoped  that 
her  wealthy  friend  would  aid  you  still  further.  Un- 
luckily, however,  you  had  no  inclination  for  the  law." 

Paul  smiled,  but  Mascarin  went  on  with  some  little 
severity. 

"I  repeat,  unfortunately;  and  I  think  that  by  this 


A   REGISTRY   OFFICE  37 

time  you  have  gone  through  enough  to  be  of  my  opin- 
ion. What  did  you  do  instead  of  studying  law?  You 
did — what?  You  wasted  your  time  over  music,  and 
composed  songs,  and,  I  know,  an  opera,  and  thought 
yourself  a  perfect  genius." 

Paul  had  listened  up  to  this  time  with  patience,  but 
at  this  sarcasm  he  endeavored  to  protest;  but  it  was 
in  vain,  for  Mascarin  went  on  pitilessly, — 

"  One  day  you  abandoned  the  study  of  the  law,  and 
told  your  mother  that  until  you  had  made  your  name 
as  a  musical  composer  you  would  give  lessons  on  the 
piano;  but  you  could  obtain  no  pupils,  and — well, 
just  look  in  the  glass  yourself,  and  say  if  you 
think  that  your  age  and  appearance  would  justify 
parents  in  intrusting  their  daughters  to  your  tui- 
tion?" 

Mascarin  stopped  for  a  moment  and  consulted  his 
notes  afresh. 

"  Your  departure  from  Poitiers,"  he  went  on,  "  was 
your  last  act  of  folly.  The  very  day  after  your  mother's 
death  you  collected  together  all  her  scanty  savings,  and 
took  the  train  to  Paris." 

"Then,  sir,  I  had  hoped " 

"What,  to  arrive  at  fortune  by  the  road  of  talent? 
Foolish  boy !  Every  year  a  thousand  poor  wretches 
have  been  thus  intoxicated  by  their  provincial  celebrity, 
and  have  started  for  Paris,  buoyed  up  by  similar  hopes. 
Do  you  know  the  end  of  them?  At  the  end  of  ten 
years — I  give  them  no  longer — nine  out  of  ten  die  of 
starvation  and  disappointment,  and  the  other  joins  the 
criminal  army." 

Paul  had  often  repeated  this  to  himself,  and  could, 
therefore,  make  no  reply. 

"  But/*  went  on  Mascarin,  "  you  did  not  leave  Poi- 


38  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

tiers  alone;  you  carried  off  with  you  a  young  girl 
named  Rose  Pigoreau." 

"Pray,  let  me  explain/' 

"It  would  be  useless.  The  fact  speaks  for  itself. 
In  six  months  your  little  store  had  disappeared;  then 
came  poverty  and  starvation,  and  at  last,  in  the  Hotel 
de  Perou,  your  thoughts  turned  to  suicide,  and  you 
were  only  saved  by  my  old  friend  Tantaine." 

Paul  felt  his  temper  rising,  for  these  plain  truths 
were  hard  to  bear;  but  fear  lest  he  should  lose  his 
protector  kept  him  silent. 

"I  admit  everything,  sir"  said  he  calmly.  "I  was 
a  fool,  and  almost  mad,  but  experience  has  taught  me 
a  bitter  lesson.  I  am  here  to-day,  and  this  fact  should 
tell  you  that  I  have  given  up  all  my  vain  hallucinations." 

"  Will  you  give  up  Rose  Pigoreau  ?  " 

As  this  abrupt  question  was  put  to  him,  Paul  turned 
pale  with  anger. 

"  I  love  Rose,"  answered  he  coldly ;  "  she  believes  in 
me,  and  has  shared  my  troubles  with  courage,  and  one 
day  she  shall  be  my  wife." 

Raising  his  velvet  cap  from  his  head,  Mascarin 
bowed  with  an  ironical  air,  saying,  "Is  that  so?  Then 
J  beg  a  thousand  pardons.  It  is  urgent  that  you  should 
have  immediate  employment.  Pray,  what  can  you  do? 
Not  much  of  anything,  I  fancy; — like  most  college 
bred  boys,  you  can  do  a  little  of  everything,  and  nothing 
well.  Had  I  a  son,  and  an  enormous  income,  I  would 
have  him  taught  a  trade." 

Paul  bit  his  lips ;  but  he  knew  the  portrait  was  a  true 
one. 

"  And  now,"  continued  Mascarin,  "  I  have  come 
to  your  aid,  and  what  do  you  say  to  a  situation  with  a 
salary  of  twelve  thousand  francs  ?  " 


A   REGISTRY   OFFICE  39 

This  sum  was  so  much  greater  than  Paul  had  dared 
to  hope,  that  he  believed  Mascarin  was  amusing  him- 
self at  his  expense. 

"It  is  not  kind  of  you  to  laugh  at  me,  under  the 
present  circumstances/'  remarked  he. 

Mascarin  was  not  laughing  at  him;  but  it  was 
fully  half  an  hour  before  he  could  prove  this  to 
Paul. 

"You  would  like  more  proof  of  what  I  say,"  said 
he,  after  a  long  conversation.  "  Very  well,  then ;  shall 
I  advance  your  first  month's  salary?"  And  as  he 
spoke,  he  took  a  thousand-franc  note  from  his  desk, 
and  offered  it  to  Paul.  The  young  man  rejected  the 
note;  but  the  force  of  the  argument  struck  him;  and 
he  asked  if  he  was  capable  of  carrying  out  the  duties 
which  such  a  salary  doubtless  demanded. 

"Were  I  not  certain  of  your  abilities,  I  should  not 
offer  it  to  you/'  replied  Mascarin.  "  I  am  in  a  hurry 
now,  or  I  would  explain  the  whole  affair;  but  I  must 
defer  doing  so  until  to-morrow,  when  please  come  at 
the  same  hour  as  you  did  to-day." 

Even  in  his  state  of  surprise  and  stupefaction,  Paul 
felt  that  this  was  a  signal  for  him  to  depart. 

"A  moment  more,"  said  Mascarin.  "You  under- 
stand that  you  can  no  longer  remain  at  the  Hotel  de 
Perou?  Try  and  find  a  room  in  this  neighborhood; 
and  when  you  have  done  so,  leave  the  address  at  the 
office.  Good-bye,  my  young  friend,  until  to-morrow, 
and  learn  to  bear  good  fortune." 

For  a  few  minutes  Mascarin  stood  at  the  door  of 
the  office  watching  Paul,  who  departed  almost  stag- 
gering beneath  the  burden  of  so  many  conflicting  emo- 
tions; and  when  he  saw  him  disappear  round  the  cor- 
ner, he  ran  to  a  glazed  door  which  led  to  his  bed 


40  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

chamber,  and  in  a  loud  whisper  called,  *Come  in, 
Hortebise.  He  has  gone." 

A  man  obeyed  the  summons  at  once,  and  hurriedly 
drew  up  a  chair  to  the  fire.  "My  feet  are  almost 
frozen,"  exclaimed  he ;  "I  should  not  know  it  if  any 
one  was  to  chop  them  off.  Your  room,  my  dear  Bap- 
tiste,  is  a  perfect  refrigerator.  Another  time,  please, 
have  a  fire  lighted  in  it." 

This  speech,  however,  did  not  disturb  Mascarin's 
line  of  thought.  "  Did  you  hear  all  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  I  saw  and  heard  all  that  you  did." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  of  the  lad? " 

"  I  think  that  Daddy  Tantaine  is  a  man  of  observa- 
tion and  powerful  will,  and  that  he  will  mould  this 
child  between  his  fingers  like  wax." 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  OPINION  OF  DR.   HORTEBISB. 

DR.  HORTEBISE,  who  had  addressed  Mascarim  eo  famil- 
iarly by  his  Christian  name  of  Baptiste,  was  about 
fifty-six  years  of  age,  but  he  carried  his  years  so  well, 
that  he  always  passed  for  forty-nine.  He  had  a  heavy 
pair  of  red,  sensual-looking  lips,  his  hair  was  untinted 
by  gray,  and  his  eyes  still  lustrous.  A  man  who  moved 
in  the  best  society,  eloquent  in  manner,  a  brilliant 
conversationalist,  and  vivid  in  his  perceptions,  he  con- 
cealed under  the  veil  of  good-humored  sarcasm  the 
utmost  cynicism  of  mind.  He  was  very  popular  and 
much  sought  after.  He  had  but  few  faults,  but  quite 
a  catalogue  of  appalling  vices.  Under  this  Epicurean 


THE   OPINION   OF  DR.   HORTEBISE    41 

exterior  lurked,  it  was  reported,  the  man  of  talent  and 
the  celebrated  physician.  He  was  not  a  hard-working 
man,  simply  because  he  achieved  the  same  results  with- 
out toil  or  labor.  He  had  recently  taken  to  homoeop- 
athy, and  started  a  medical  journal,  which  he  named 
The  Globule,  which  died  at  its  fifth  number.  His  con- 
version made  all  society  laugh,  and  he  joined  in  the 
ridicule,  thus  showing  the  sincerity  of  his  views,  for 
he  was  never  able  to  take  the  round  of  life  seriously. 
To-day,  however,  Mascarin,  well  as  he  knew  his  friend, 
seemed  piqued  at  his  air  of  levity. 

"When  I  asked  you  to  come  here  to-day,"  said  he, 
"and  when  I  begged  you  to  conceal  yourself  in  my 
bedroom " 

"Where  I  was  half  frozen/'  broke  in  Hortebise. 

"  It  was,"  went  on  Mascarin,  "  because  I  desired 
your  advice.  We  have  started  on  a  serious  undertak- 
ing,— an  undertaking  full  of  peril  both  to  you  and  to 
myself." 

"  Pooh  !  I  have  perfect  confidence  in  you, — whatever 
you  do  is  done  well,  and  you  are  not  the  man  to  fling 
away  your  trump  cards/* 

"True;  but  I  may  lose  the  game,  after  all,  and 
then " 

The  doctor  merely  shook  a  large  gold  locket  that 
depended  from  his  watch  chain. 

This  movement  seemed  to  annoy  Mascarin  a  great 
deal.  "  Why  do  you  flash  that  trinket  at  me  ?  *  asked 
he.  "We  have  known  each  other  for  five  and  twenty 
years, — what  do  you  mean  to  imply?  Do  you  mean 
that  the  locket  contains  the  likeness  of  some  one  that 
you  intend  to  make  use  of  later  on  ?  I  think  that  you 
might  render  such  a  step  unnecessary  by  giving  me 
your  present  advice  and  attention." 


42  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Hortebise  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair  with  an 
expression  of  resignation.  "  If  you  want  advice,"  re- 
marked he,  "why  not  apply  to  our  worthy  friend 
Catenae? — he  knows  something  of  business,  as  he  is 
a  lawyer." 

The  name  of  Catenae  seemed  to  irritate  Mascarin  so 
much,  that,  calm  and  self-contained  as  he  usually  was, 
he  pulled  off  his  cap  and  dashed  it  on  his  desk. 

"Are  you  speaking  seriously?"  said  he  angrily. 

"Why  should  I  not  be  in  earnest?" 

Mascarin  removed  his  glasses,  as  though  without 
them  he  could  the  more  easily  peer  into  the  depths  of 
the  soul  of  the  man  before  him. 

"  Because,"  replied  he  slowly,  "  both  you  and  I  dis- 
trust Catenae.  When  did  you  see  him  last?" 

"  More  than  three  months  ago." 

"  True,  and  I  allow  that  he  seems  to  be  acting  fairly 
toward  his  old  associates;  but  you  will  admit  that,  in 
keeping  away  thus,  his  conduct  is  without  excuse,  for 
he  has  made  his  fortune ;  and  though  he  pretends  to  be 
poor,  he  is  certainly  a  man  of  wealth." 

"Do  you  really  think  so?" 

"  Were  he  here,  I  would  force  him  to  acknowledge 
that  he  is  worth  a  million,  at  least." 

"A  million!"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  with  sudden 
animation. 

"Yes,  certainly.  You  and  I,  Hortebise,  have  in- 
dulged our  every  whim,  and  have  spent  gold  like  water, 
while  our  friend  garnered  his  harvest  and  stored  it 
away.  But  poor  Catenae  has  no  expensive  tastes,  nor 
does  he  care  for  women  or  the  pleasures  of  the  table. 
While  we  indulged  in  every  pleasure,  he  lent  out  his 
money  at  usurious  interest.  But,  stop, — how  much  do 
you  spend  per  annum  ?  " 


THE   OPINION   OF  DR.   HORTEBISE    43 

"  That  is  a  hard  question  to  answer ;  but,  say,  forty 
thousand  francs." 

"More,  a  great  deal  more;  but  calculate  what  a 
capital  sum  that  would  amount  to  during  the  twenty 
years  we  have  done  business  together." 

The  doctor  was  not  clever  at  figures;  he  made  sev- 
eral vain  attempts  to  solve  the  problem,  and  at  last 
gave  it  up  in  despair.  "  Forty  and  forty/'  muttered 
he,  tapping  the  tips  of  his  fingers,  are  eighty,  then 
forty » 

"  Call  it  eight  hundred  thousand  francs,"  broke  in 
Mascarin.  "  Say  I  drew  the  same  amount  as  you  did. 
We  have  spent  ours,  and  Catenae  has  saved  his,  and 
grown  rich;  hence  my  distrust.  Our  interests  are  no 
longer  identical.  He  certainly  comes  here  every  month, 
but  it  is  only  to  claim  his  share;  he  consents  to  take 
his  share  of  the  profits,  but  shirks  the  risks.  It  is  fully 
ten  years  since  he  brought  in  any  business.  I  don't 
trust  him  at  all.  He  always  declines  to  join  in  any  scheme 
that  we  propose,  and  sees  danger  in  everything." 

"  He  would  not  betray  us,  however." 

Mascarin  took  a  few  moments  for  reflection.  "  I 
think,"  said  he,  "that  Catenae  is  afraid  of  us.  He 
knows  that  the  ruin  of  me  would  entail  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  other  two.  This  is  our  only  safeguard; 
but  if  he  dare  not  injure  us  openly,  he  is  quite  capable 
of  working  against  us  in  secret.  Do  you  remember 
what  he  said  the  last  time  he  was  here  ?  That  we  ought 
to  close  our  business  and  retire.  How  should  we  live? 
for  he  is  rich  and  we  are  poor.  What  on  earth  are 
you  doing,  Hortebise?"  he  added,  for  the  physician, 
who  had  the  reputation  of  being  worth  an  enormous 
amount,  had  taken  out  his  purse,  and  was  going  over 
the  contents. 


44  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  1  Itare  exactly  three  hundred  and  twenty-seven 
francs!*  answered  he  with  a  laugh.  "What  is  the 
state  of  your  finances  ?  " 

Mascarin  made  a  grimace.  "I  am  not  so  well  off 
as  you;  and  besides,"  he  continued  in  a  low  voice,  as 
though  speaking  to  himself,  "  I  have  certain  ties  which 
you  do  not  possess." 

For  the  first  time  during  this  interview  a  cloud  spread 
over  the  doctor's  countenance. 

"  Great  heavens !  "  said  he,  "  and  I  was  depending 
on  you  for  three  thousand  francs,  which  I  require 
urgently/* 

Mascarin  smiled  slyly  at  the  doctor's  uneasiness. 
"  Don't  worry,"  he  answered.  "  You  can  have  that ; 
there  ought  to  be  some  six  or  eight  thousand  francs 
in  the  safe.  But  that  is  all,  and  that  is  the  last  of 
our  common  capital, — this  after  twenty  years  of  toil, 
danger,  and  anxiety,  and  we  have  not  twenty  years 
before  us  to  make  a  fresh  fortune  in." 

"  Yes,"  continued  Mascarin,  "we  are  getting  old,  and 
therefore  have  the  greater  reason  for  making  one  grand 
stroke  to  assure  our  fortune.  Were  I  to  fall  ill  to- 
morrow, all  would  go  to  smash." 

"Quite  true,"  returned  the  doctor,  with  a  slight 
shudder. 

"We  must,  and  that  is  certain,  venture  on  a  bold 
stroke.  I  have  said  this  for  years,  and  woven  a  web 
of  gigantic  proportions.  Do  you  now  know  why  at 
this  last  moment  I  appeal  to  you,  and  not  to  Catenae 
for  assistance?  If  only  one  out  of  the  two  operations 
that  I  have  fully  explained  to  you  succeeds,  our  fortune 
is  made." 

"  I  follow  you  exactly." 

"  The  question  now  is  whether  the  chance  of  success 


THE   OPINION    OF  DR.   HORTEBISE    45 

is  sufficiently  great  to  warrant  our  going  on  with  these 
undertakings.  Think  it  over,  and  let  me  have  your 
opinion/' 

An  acute  observer  could  easily  have  seen  that  the 
doctor  was  a  man  of  resource,  and  a  thoroughly  com- 
petent adviser,  for  the  reason  that  his  coolness  never 
deserted  him.  Compelled  to  choose  between  the  use  of 
the  contents  of  his  locket,  or  the  continuance  of  a  life 
of  luxurious  ease,  the  smile  vanished  from  the  doctor's 
face,  and  he  began  to  reflect  profoundly.  Leaning  back 
in  his  chair,  with  his  feet  resting  on  the  fender,  he 
carefully  studied  every  combination  in  the  undertaking, 
as  a  general  inspects  the  position  taken  up  by  the 
enemy,  when  a  battle  is  impending,  upon  which  the 
fate  of  an  empire  may  hinge.  That  this  analysis  took 
a  favorable  turn,  was  evident,  for  Mascarin  soon  saw 
a  smile  appear  upon  the  doctor's  lips.  "We  must 
make  the  attack  at  once,"  said  he ;  "  but  make  no  mis- 
take ;  the  projects  you  propose  are  most  dangerous,  and 
a  single  error  upon  our  side  would  entail  destruction; 
but  we  must  take  some  risk.  The  odds  are  against  us, 
but  still  we  may  win.  Under  these  circumstances,  and 
as  necessity  cheers  us  on,  I  say,  Forward!"  As  he  said 
this,  he  rose  to  his  feet,  and  extending  his  hand  toward 
his  friend,  exclaimed,  "  I  am  entirely  at  your  disposal." 

Mascarin  seemed  relieved  by  the  doctor's  decision, 
for  he  was  in  that  frame  of  mind  when,  however  self- 
reliant  a  man  may  be,  he  has  a  disinclination  to  be  left 
alone,  and  the  aid  of  a  stout  ally  is  of  the  utmost 
service. 

"  Have  you  considered  every  point  carefully?  "  asked 
he.  *  You  know  that  we  can  only  act  at  present  upon 
one  of  these  undertakings,  and  that  is  the  one  of  which 
the  Marquis  de  Croisenois " 


46  CAUGHT   IN   THE  NET 

"I  know  that" 

"  With  reference  to  the  affair  of  the  Duke  de  Champ- 
doce,  I  have  still  to  gather  together  certain  things 
necessary  for  the  ultimate  success  of  the  scheme.  There 
is  a  mystery  in  the  lives  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess, — 
of  this  there  is  no  doubt, — but  what  is  this  secret?  I 
would  lay  my  life  that  I  have  hit  upon  the  correct 
solution;  but  I  want  no  suspicions,  no  probabilities;  I 
want  absolute  certainties.  And  now/7  continued  he, 
"this  brings  us  back  to  the  first  question.  What  do 
you  think  of  Paul  Violaine?" 

Hortebise  walked  up  and  down  the  room  two  or 
three  times,  and  finally  stopped  opposite  to  his  friend. 
"I  think/'  said  he,  "that  the  lad  has  many  of  the 
qualities  we  want,  and  we  might  find  it  hard  to  discover 
one  better  suited  for  our  purpose.  Besides,  he  is  a 
bastard,  knows  nothing  of  his  father,  and  therefore 
leaves  a  wide  field  for  conjecture;  for  every  natural 
son  has  the  right  to  consider  himself,  if  he  likes,  the 
offspring  of  a  monarch.  He  has  no  family  or  any  one 
to  look  after  him,  which  assures  us  that  whatever  may 
happen,  there  is  no  one  to  call  us  to  account.  He  is 
not  overwise,  but  has  a  certain  amount  of  talent,  and 
any  quantity  of  ridiculous  self-conceit.  He  is  wonder- 
fully handsome,  which  will  make  matters  easier,  but — " 

"Ah,  there  is  a  'but'  then?" 

"  More  than  one,"  answered  the  doctor,  "  for  there 
are  three  for  certain.  First,  there  is  Rose  Pigoreau, 
whose  beauty  has  so  captivated  our  old  friend  Tan- 
taine, — she  certainly  appears  to  be  a  danger  in  the 
future." 

"Be  easy,"  returned  Mascarin;  "we  will  quickly 
remove  this  young  woman  from  our  road." 

"Good;  but  do  not    be    too    confident,"    answered 


THE   OPINION   OF  DR.   HORTEBISE    47 

Hortebise,  in  his  usual  tone.  "The  danger  from  her 
is  not  the  one  you  think,  and  which  you  are  trying  to 
avoid.  You  think  Paul  loves  her.  You  are  wrong. 
He  would  drop  her  to-morrow,  so  that  he  could  please 
his  self-indulgence.  But  the  woman  who  thinks  that 
she  hates  her  lover  often  deceives  herself;  and  Rose 
is  simply  tired  of  poverty.  Give  her  a  little  amount 
of  comfort,  good  living,  and  luxury,  and  you  will  see 
her  give  them  all  up  to  come  back  to  Paul.  Yes,  I 
tell  you,  she  will  harass  and  annoy  him,  as  women  of 
her  class  who  have  nothing  to  love  always  do.  She 
will  even  go  to  Flavia  to  claim  him." 

"  She  had  better  not,"  retorted  Mascarin,  in  threat* 
ening  accents. 

"Why,  how  could  you  prevent  it?  She  has  known 
Paul  from  his  infancy.  She  knew  his  mother ;  she  was 
perhaps  brought  up  by  her,  perhaps  even  lived  in  the 
same  street.  Look  out,  I  say,  for  danger  from  that 
quarter." 

"  You  may  be  right,  and  I  will  take  my  precautions." 

It  was  sufficient  for  Mascarin  to  be  assured  of  a 
danger  to  find  means  of  warding  it  off. 

"My  second  'but/"  continued  Hortebise,  "is  the 
idea  of  the  mysterious  protector  of  whom  the  young 
man  spoke.  His  mother,  he  says,  has  reason  to  know 
that  his  father  is  dead,  and  I  believe  in  the  truth  of 
the  statement.  In  this  case,  what  has  become  of  the 
person  who  paid  Madame  Violaine  her  allowance?" 

"You  are  right,  quite  right;  these  are  the  crevices 
in  our  armor;  but  I  keep  my  eyes  open,  and  nothing 
escapes  me." 

The  doctor  was  growing  rather  weary,  but  he  still 
went  on  courageously.  "  My  third  '  but ' "  said  he,  "  is. 
perhaps  the  strongest.  We  must  see  the  young  fel- 


48  CAUGHT   IN   THE  NET 

low  at  once.  It  may  be  to-morrow,  without  even  hav- 
ing prepared  him  or  taught  him  his  part.  Suppose  we 
found  that  he  was  honest !  Imagine — if  he  returned  a 
firm  negative  to  all  your  dazzling  offers ! " 

Mascarin  rose  to  his  feet  in  his  turn.  "I  do  not 
think  that  there  is  any  chance  of  that/'  said  he. 

"Why  not,  pray? " 

"Because  when  Tantaine  brought  him  to  me,  he 
had  studied  him  carefully.  He  is  as  weak  as  a  woman, 
and  as  vain  as  a  journalist.  Besides,  he  is  ashamed  at 
being  poor.  No;  I  can  mould  him  like  wax  into  any 
shape  I  like.  He  will  be  just  what  we  wish." 

"  Are  you  sure/'  asked  Hortebise,  "  that  Flavia  will 
have  nothing  to  say  in  this  matter?  " 

"  I  had  rather,  with  your  permission,  say  nothing  on 
that  head/'  returned  Mascarin.  He  broke  off  his 
speech  and  listened  eagerly.  "There  is  some  one  lis- 
tening/' said  he.  "  Hark ! " 

The  sound  was  repeated,  and  the  doctor  was  about 
to  seek  refuge  in  the  inner  room,  when  Mascarin  laid 
a  detaining  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  Stay,"  observed  he,  "  it  is  only  Beaumarchef ; "  and 
as  he  spoke,  he  struck  a  gilded  bell  that  stood  on  his 
desk.  In  another  instant  Beaumarchef  appeared,  and 
with  an  air  in  which  familiarity  was  mingled  with 
respect,  he  saluted  in  military  fashion. 

"  Ah,"  said  the  doctor  pleasantly,  "  do  you  take  your 
nips  of  brandy  regularly  ?  " 

"Only  occasionally,  sir,"  stammered  the  man. 

"Too  often,  too  often,  my  good  fellow.  Do  you 
think  that  your  nose  and  eyelids  are  not  real  telltales?" 

"But  I  assure  you,  sir " 

"Do  you  not  remember  I  told  you  that  you  had 
asthmatic  symptoms?  Why,  the  movement  of  your 


THE   OPINION    OF   DR.    HORTEBISE    49 

pectoral  muscles  shows  that  your  lungs  are  affected." 

"But  I  have  been  running,  sir." 

Mascarin  broke  in  upon  this  conversation,  which  he 
considered  frivolous.  "  If  he  is  out  of  breath,"  re- 
marked he,  "  it  is  because  he  has  been  endeavoring  to 
repair  a  great  act  of  carelessness  that  he  has  committed. 
Well,  Beaumarchef,  how  did  you  get  on?" 

"All  right,  sir,"  returned  he,  with  a  look  of  tri- 
umph. "Good!" 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  asked  the  doctor. 

Mascarin  gave  his  friend  a  meaning  glance,  and 
then,  in  a  careless  manner,  replied,  "Caroline  Schim- 
mel,  a  former  servant  of  the  Champdoce  family,  also 
patronizes  our  office.  How  did  you  find  her,  Beau- 
marchef?" 

"  Well,  an  idea  occurred  to  me." 

"Pooh !  do  you  have  ideas  at  your  time  of  life  ?  " 

Beaumarchef  put  on  an  air  of  importance.  "  My 
idea  was  this,"  he  went  on :  "  as  I  left  the  office  with 
Toto  Chupin,  I  said  to  myself,  the  woman  would  cer- 
tainly drop  in  at  some  pub.  before  she  reached  the 
boulevard." 

"A  sound  argument,"  remarked  the  doctor. 

"  Therefore  Toto  and  I  took  a  squint  into  every  one 
we  passed,  and  before  we  got  to  the  Rue  Carreau  we 
saw  her  in  one,  sure  enough." 

"  And  Toto  is  after  her  now  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  he  said  he  would  follow  her  like  her 
shadow,  and  will  bring  in  a  report  every  day." 

"  I  am  very  pleased  with  you,  Beaumarchef,"  said 
Mascarin,  rubbing  his  hands  joyously. 

Beaumarchef  seemed  highly  flattered,  but  continued, — 

"This  is  not  all." 

"What  else  is  there  to  tell?" 


50  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"I  met  La  Candele  on  his  way  from  the  Place  de 
Petit  Pont,  and  he  has  just  seen  that  young  girl — you 
know  whom  I  mean — driving  off  in  a  two-horse  Vic- 
toria. He  followed  it,  of  course.  She  has  been  placed 
in  a  gorgeous  apartment  in  the  Rue  Douai;  and  from 
what  the  porter  says,  she  must  be  a  rare  beauty;  and 
La  Candele  raved  about  her,  and  says  that  she  has  the 
most  magnificent  eyes  in  the  world." 

"Ah,"  remarked  Hortebise,  "then  Tantaine  was 
right  in  his  description  of  her." 

"  Of  course  he  was,"  answered  Mascarin  with  a 
slight  frown,  "and  this  proves  the  justice  of  the  ob- 
jection you  made  a  little  time  back.  A  girl  possessed 
of  such  dazzling  beauty  may  even  influence  the  fool 
who  has  carried  her  off  to  become  dangerous." 

Beaumarchef  touched  his  master's  arm  kindly.  "  If 
you  wish  to  get  rid  of  the  masher,"  said  he,  "  I  can 
show  you  a  way ; "  and  throwing  himself  into  the  posi- 
tion of  a  fencer,  he  made  a  lunge  with  his  right  arm, 
exclaiming,  "  One,  two ! " 

"  A  Prussian  quarrel/'  remarked  Mascarin.  "  No ;  a 
duel  would  do  us  no  good.  We  should  still  have  the 
girl  on  our  hands,  and  violent  measures  are  always 
to  be  avoided."  He  took  off  his  glasses,  wiped  them, 
and  looking  at  the  doctor  intently,  said,  "  Suppose  we 
take  an  epidemic  as  our  ally.  If  the  girl  had  the  small- 
pox, she  would  lose  her  beauty." 

Cynical  and  hardened  as  the  doctor  was,  he  drew 
back  in  horror  at  this  proposal.  "Under  certain  cir- 
cumstances," remarked  he,  "  science  might  aid  us ;  but 
Rose,  even  without  her  beauty,  would  be  just  as  dan- 
gerous as  she  is  now.  It  is  her  affection  for  Paul  that 
we  have  to  check,  and  not  his  for  her;  and  the  uglier 
a  woman  is,  the  more  she  clings  to  her  lover." 


THE   OPINION   OF   DR.   HORTEBISE    51 

"  All  this  is  worthy  of  consideration/'  returned  Mas- 
carin;  "meanwhile  we  must  take  steps  to  guard  our- 
selves from  the  impending  danger.  Have  you  finished 
that  report  on  Gandelu,  Beaumarchef?  What  is  his 
position?" 

"Head  over  ears  in  debt,  sir,  but  not  harassed  by 
his  creditors  because  of  his  future  prospects." 

"  Surely  among  these  creditors  there  are  some  that 
we  could  influence  ?  "  said  Mascarin.  "  Find  this  out, 
and  report  to  me  this  evening;  and  farewell  for  the 
present." 

When  again  alone,  the  two  confederates  remained 
silent  for  some  time.  The  decisive  moment  had  ar- 
rived. As  yet  they  were  not  compromised;  but  if  they 
intended  to  carry  out  their  plans,  they  must  no  longer 
remain  inactive;  and  both  of  these  men  had  sufficient 
experience  to  know  that  they  must  look  at  the  position 
boldly,  and  make  up  their  minds  at  once.  The  pleas- 
ant smile  upon  the  doctor's  face  faded  away,  and  his 
fingers  played  nervously  with  his  locket.  Mascarin 
was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"Let  us  no  longer  hesitate,"  said  he;  "let  us  shut 
our  eyes  to  the  danger  and  advance  steadily.  You 
heard  the  promises  made  by  the  Marquis  de  Croisenois. 
He  will  do  as  we  wish,  but  under  certain  conditions. 
Mademoiselle  de  Mussidan  must  be  his  bride." 

"  That  will  be  impossible." 

"Not  so,  if  we  desire  it:  and  the  proof  of  this  is, 
that  before  two  o'clock  the  engagement  between 
Mademoiselle  Sabine  and  the  Baron  de  Breulh-Faver- 
lay  will  be  broken  off." 

The  doctor  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  "  I  can  understand 
Catenae's  scruples.  Ah  !  if,  like  him,  I  had  a  million  !  " 

During  this  brief  conversation  Mascarin  had  gone 


52  CAUGHT   IN   THE    NET 

into  his  sleeping  room  and  was  busily  engaged  in 
changing  his  dress. 

"  If  you  are  ready/'  remarked  the  doctor,  "  we  will 
make  a  start." 

In  reply,  Mascarin  opened  the  door  leading  iato  the 
office.  "  Get  a  cab,  Beaumarchef,"  said  he. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A    TRUSTWORTHY   SERVANT. 

IN  the  city  of  Paris  it  is  impossible  to  find  a  more 
fashionable  quarter  than  the  one  which  is  bounded  on 
the  one  side  by  the  Rue  Faubourg  Saint  Honore  and 
on  the  other  by  the  Seine,  and  commences  at  the  Place 
de  la  Concorde  and  ends  at  the  Avenue  de  1'Impera- 
trice.  In  this  favored  spot  millionaires  seem  to  bloom 
like  the  rhododendron  in  the  sunny  south.  There  are 
the  magnificent  palaces  which  they  have  erected  for 
their  accommodation,  where  the  turf  is  ever  verdant, 
and  where  the  flowers  bloom  perennially;  but  the  most 
gorgeous  of  all  these  mansions  was  the  Hotel  de  Mus- 
sidan,  the  last  chef  d'azuvre  of  Sevair,  that  skilful 
architect  who  died  just  as  the  world  was  beginning 
to  recognize  his  talents.  With  a  spacious  courtyard  in 
front  and  a  magnificent  garden  in  the  rear,  the  Hotel 
de  Mussidan  is  as  elegant  as  it  is  commodious.  The 
exterior  was  extremely  plain,  and  not  disfigured  by 
florid  ornamentation.  White  marble  steps,  with  a  light 
and  elegant  railing  at  the  sides,  lead  to  the  wide  doors 
which  open  into  the  hall.  The  busy  hum  of  the  ser- 
vants at  work  at  an  early  hour  in  the  yard  tells  that 


A   TRUSTWORTHY   SERVANT  53 

an  ample  establishment  is  kept  up.  There  can  be  seen 
luxurious  carriages,  for  occasions  of  ceremony,  and 
the  park  phaeton,  and  the  simple  brougham  which  the 
Countess  uses  when  she  goes  out  shopping;  and  that 
carefully  groomed  thoroughbred  is  Mirette,  the  favor- 
ite riding  horse  of  Mademoiselle  Sabine.  Mascarin 
and  his  confederate  descended  from  their  cab  a  little 
distance  at  the  corner  of  the  Avenue  Matignon.  Mas- 
carin, in  his  dark  suit,  with  his  spotless  white  cravat 
and  glittering  spectacles,  looked  like  some  highly  re- 
spectable functionary  of  State.  Hortebise  wore  his 
usual  smile,  though  his  cheek  was  pale. 

"  Now,"  remarked  Mascarin,  "  let  me  see, — on  what 
footing  do  you  stand  with  the  Mussidans?  Do  they 
look  upon  you  as  a  friend  ?  " 

"  No,  no ;  a  poor  doctor,  whose  ancestors  were  not 
among  the  Crusaders,  could  not  be  the  intimate  friend 
of  such  haughty  nobles  as  the  Mussidans." 

"But  the  Countess  knows  you,  and  will  not  refuse 
to  receive  you,  nor  have  you  turned  out  as  soon  as 
you  begin  to  speak;  for,  taking  shelter  behind  some 
rogue  without  a  name,  you  can  shelter  your  own  repu- 
tation. I  will  see  the  Count." 

"Take  care  of  him,"  said  Hortebise  thoughtfully. 
"He  has  a  reputation  for  being  a  man  of  ungovern- 
able temper,  and,  at  the  first  word  from  you  that  he 
objects  to,  would  throw  you  out  of  the  window  as 
soon  as  look  at  you." 

Mascarin  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "I  can  bring 
him  to  reason,"  answered  he. 

The  two  confederates  walked  a  little  past  the  Hotel 
de  Mussidan,  and  the  doctor  explained  the  interior  ar- 
rangements of  the  house. 

"  I/*    continued    Mascarin,    "  will    insist    upon    the 


54  CAUGHT   IN   THE  NET 

Count's  breaking  off  his  daughter's  engagement  with 
M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay,  but  shall  not  say  a  word  about 
the  Marquis  de  Croisenois,  while  you  will  take  the 
opportunity  of  putting  his  pretensions  before  the 
Countess,  and  will  not  say  a  word  of  M.  de  Breulh- 
Faverlay." 

"  I  have  learned  my  lesson,  and  shall  not  forget  it." 

"You  see,  doctor,  the  beauty  of  the  whole  affair  is, 
that  the  Countess  will  wonder  how  her  husband  will 
take  her  interference,  while  he  will  be  at  a  loss  how 
to  break  the  news  to  his  wife.  How  surprised  they 
will  be  when  they  find  that  they  have  both  the  same 
end  in  view ! " 

There  was  something  so  droll  in  the  whole  affair, 
that  the  doctor  burst  into  a  loud  laugh. 

"We  go  by  such  different  roads/'  said  he,  "that 
they  will  never  suspect  that  we  are  working  together. 
Faith!  my  dear  Baptiste,  you  are  much  more  clever 
than  I  thought." 

"  Don't  praise  me  until  you  see  that  I  am  successful." 

Mascarin  stopped  opposite  to  a  cafe  in  the  Faubourg 
Saint  Honore. 

"  Wait  here  for  me,  doctor,"  said  he,  "  while  I  make 
a  little  call.  If  all  is  right,  I  will  come  for  you  again ; 
then  I  will  see  the  Count,  and  twenty  minutes  later 
do  you  go  to  the  house  and  ask  for  the  Countess." 

The  clock  struck  four  as  the  worthy  confederates 
parted,  and  Mascarin  continued  his  way  along  the 
Faubourg  Saint  Honore,  and  again  stopped  before  a 
public  house,  which  he  entered,  the  master  of  which, 
Father  Canon,  was  so  well  known  in  the  neighborhood 
that  he  had  not  thought  it  worth  while  to  have  his 
name  painted  over  the  door.  He  did  not  profess  to 
serve  his  best  wine  to  casual  customers,  but  for  regu- 


A   TRUSTWORTHY    SERVANT          55 

lar  frequenters  of  his  house,  chiefly  the  servants  of 
noble  families,  he  kept  a  better  brand  of  wine.  Mas- 
carin's  respectable  appearance  inclined  the  landlord  to- 
step  forward.  Among  Frenchmen,  who  are  always 
full  of  gayety,  a  serious  exterior  is  ever  an  excellent 
passport. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  sir?"  asked  he  with  great 
politeness. 

"Can  I  see  Florestan?" 

"In  Count  de  Mussidan's  service,  I  believe?" 

"Just  so;  I  have  an  appointment  with  him  here." 

"He  is  downstairs  in  the  band-room,"  replied  the 
landlord.  "  I  will  send  for  him." 

"  Don't  trouble ;  I  will  go  down,"  and,  without  wait- 
ing for  permission,  Mascarin  descended  some  steps 
that  apparently  led  to  a  cellar. 

"  It  appears  to  me,"  murmured  Father  Canon,  "  that 
I  have  seen  this  cove's  face  before." 

Mascarin  pushed  open  a  door  at  the  bottom  of  the 
flight  of  stairs,  and  a  strange  and  appalling  noise  issued 
from  within  (but  this  neither  surprised  nor  alarmed 
him),  and  entered  a  vaulted  room  arranged  like  a 
cafe,  with  seats  and  tables,  filled  with  customers.  In 
the  centre,  two  men,  in  their  shirt  sleeves,  with  crimson 
faces,  were  performing  upon  horns ;  while  an  old  man, 
with  leather  gaiters,  buttoning  to  the  knee,  and  a  broad 
leather  belt,  was  whistling  the  air  the  hornplayers  were 
executing.  As  Mascarin  politely  took  off  his  hat,  the 
performers  ceased,  and  the  old  man  discontinued  his 
whistling,  while  a  well-built  young  fellow,  with  pumps 
and  stockings,  and  wearing  a  fashionable  mustache, 
exclaimed, — 

"Aha,  it  is  that  good  old  Mascarin.  I  was  expect* 
ing  you;  will  you  drink?" 


56  CAUGHT   IN   THE  NET 

Without  waiting  for  further  invitation  Mascarin 
helped  himself  from  a  bottle  that  stood  near. 

"  Did  Father  Canon  tell  you  that  I  was  here?  "  asked 
the  young  man,  who  was  the  Florestan  Mascarin  had 
been  inquiring  for.  "  You  see/'  continued  he,  "  that 
the  police  will  not  permit  us  to  practise  the  horn;  so, 
you  observe,  Father  Canon  has  arranged  this  under- 
ground studio,  from  whence  no  sound  reaches  the 
upper  world." 

The  hornplayers  had  now  resumed  their  lessons,  and 
Florestan  was  compelled  to  place  both  hands  to  the 
side  of  his  mouth,  in  order  to  render  himself  audible, 
and  to  shout  with  all  his  might. 

"  That  old  fellow  there  is  a  huntsman  in  the  service 
of  the  Duke  de  Champdoce,  and  is  the  finest  hornplayer 
going.  I  have  only  had  twenty  lessons  from  him,  and 
am  getting  on  wonderfully." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Mascarin,  "when  I  have  more 
time  I  must  hear  your  performance;  but  to-day  I  aim 
in  a  hurry,  and  want  to  say  a  few  words  to  you  in 
private." 

"  Certainly,  but  suppose  we  go  upstairs  and  ask  for 
a  private  room." 

The  rooms  he  referred  to  were  not  very  luxuriously 
furnished,  but  were  admirably  suited  for  confidential 
communications ;  and  had  the  walls  been  able  to  speak, 
they  could  have  told  many  a  strange  tale. 

Florestan  and  Mascarin  seated  themselves  m  one  of 
these  before  a  small  table,  upon  which  Father  Canon 
placed  a  bottle  of  wine  and  two  glasses. 

"I  asked  you  to  meet  me  here,  Florestan,"  began 
Mascarin,  "  because  you  can  do  me  a  little  favor." 

"  Anything  that  is  in  my  power  I  will  do/'  said  the 
young  man. 


A   TRUSTWORTHY    SERVANT          57 

"  First,  a  few  words  regarding  yourself.  How  do 
you  get  on  with  Count  de  Mussidan?" 

Mascarin  had  adopted  an  air  of  familiarity  which  he 
knew  would  please  his  companion. 

"I  don't  care  about  the  place,"  replied  Florestan, 
"and  I  am  going  to  ask  Beaumarchef  to  look  out 
another  one  for  me." 

"  I  am  surprised  at  that ;  all  your  predecessors  said 
that  the  Count  was  a  perfect  gentleman " 

"  Just  try  him  yourself,"  broke  in  the  valet.  "  In 
the  first  place  he  is  as  fickle  as  the  wind,  and  awfully 
suspicious.  He  never  leaves  anything  about, — no  let- 
ters, no  cigars,  and  no  money.  He  spends  half  his 
time  in  locking  things  up,  and  goes  to  bed  with  his 
keys  under  his  pillow." 

"  I  allow  that  such  suspicion  on  his  part  is  most  un- 
pleasant/' 

"  It  is  indeed,  and  besides  he  is  awfully  violent.  He 
gets  in  a  rage  about  nothing,  and  half  a  dozen  times 
in  the  day  he  looks  ready  to  murder  you.  On  my  word, 
I  am  really  frightened  at  him." 

This  account,  coupled  with  what  he  had  heard  from 
Hortebise  seemed  to  render  Mascarin  very  thoughtful. 

"  Is  he  always  like  this,  or  only  at  intervals  ?  " 

"  He  is  always  a  beast,  but  he  is  worse  after  drink 
or  losing  at  cards.  He  is  never  home  until  after  four 
in  the  morning." 

"  And  what  does  his  wife  say  ?  " 

This  query  made  Florestan  laugh. 

"Madame  does  not  bother  herself  about  her  lord 
and  master,  I  can  assure  you.  Sometimes  they  don't 
meet  for  weeks.  All  she  wants  is  plenty  of  money. 
And  ain't  we  fust  dunned ! " 

"But  the  Mussidans  are  wealthy?" 


58  CAUGHT   IN  THE  NET, 

"Tremendously  so,  but  at  times  there  is  not  the 
value  of  a  franc  in  the  house.  Then  Madame  is  like 
a  tigress,  and  would  send  to  borrow  from  all  her 
friends." 

"  But  she  must  feel  much  humiliated  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit ;  when  she  wants  a  heavy  amount,  she 
sends  off  to  the  Duke  de  Champdoce,  and  he  always 
parts;  but  she  doesn't  mince  matters  with  him/' 

"It  would  seem  as  if  you  had  known  the  contents 
of  your  mistress's  letters  ?  "  remarked  Mascarin  with  a 
smile. 

"Of  course  I  have;  I  like  to  know  what  is  in  the 
letters  I  carry  about.  She  only  says, '  My  good  friend, 
I  want  so  much/  and  back  comes  the  money  without 
a  word.  Of  course  it  is  easy  to  see  that  there  has  been 
something  between  them." 

"Yes,  evidently." 

"And  when  master  and  missus  do  meet  they  only 
have  rows,  and  such  rows !  When  the  working  man 
has  had  a  drop  too  much,  he  beats  his  wife,  she 
screams,  then  they  kiss  and  make  it  up ;  but  the  Mussi- 
dans  say  things  to  each  other  in  cold  blood  that  neither 
can  ever  forgive." 

From  the  air  with  which  Mascarin  listened  to  these 
details,  it  almost  seemed  as  if  he  had  been  aware  of 
them  before. 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  Mademoiselle  Sabine  is  the  only 
nice  one  in  the  house  ?  " 

"Yes,  she  is  always  gentle  and  considerate." 

"Then  you  think  that  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay  will 
be  a  happy  man?" 

"  Oh  yes ;  but  perhaps  this  marriage  will "  but 

here  Florestan  interrupted  himself  and  assumed  an 
air  of  extreme  caution.  After  looking  carefully  round, 


A    TRUSTWORTHY    SERVANT          59 

he  lowered  his  voice,  and  continued,  "Mademoiselle 
Sabine  has  been  left  so  much  to  herself  that  she  acts 
just  as  she  thinks  fit." 

"  Do  you  mean,"  asked  Mascarin,  "  that  the  young 
lady  has  a  lover  ?  " 

"Just  so." 

"  But  that  must  be  wrong ;  and  let  me  tell  you  that 
you  ought  not  to  repeat  such  a  story." 

The  man  grew  quite  excited. 

"Story,"  repeated  he;  "I  know  what  I  know.  If 
I  spoke  of  a  lover,  it  is  because  I  have  seen  him  with 
my  own  eyes,  not  once,  but  twice." 

From  the  manner  in  which  Mascarin  received  this 
intelligence,  Florestan  saw  that  he  was  interested  in 
the  highest  degree. 

"  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,"  continued  he.  "  The  first 
time  was  when  she  went  to  mass;  it  came  on  to  rain 
suddenly,  and  Modeste,  her  maid,  begged  me  to  go 
for  an  umbrella.  As  soon  as  I  came  back  I  went  in 
and  saw  Mademoiselle  Sabine  standing  by  the  re- 
ceptacle for  holy  water,  talking  to  a  young  fellow.  Of 
course  I  dodged  behind  a  pillar,  and  kept  a  watch  on 
the  pair " 

"  But  you  don't  found  all  your  story  on  this  ?  " 

"  I  think  you  would,  had  you  seen  the  way  they 
looked  into  each  other's  eyes." 

"What  was  he  like?" 

"  Very  good  looking,  about  my  height,  with  an  aris- 
tocratic air." 

"  How  about  the  second  time  ?  " 

"Ah,  that  is  a  longer  story.  I  went  one  day  with 
Mademoiselle  when  she  was  going  to  see  a  friend  in 
the  Rue  Marboeuf.  She  waited  at  a  corner  of  the 
street,  and  beckoned  me  to  her.  '  Florestan,'  said  she, 


60  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

' I  forgot  to  post  this  letter;  go  and  do  so;  I  wffl  wait 
here  for  you/" 

"  Of  course  you  read  it  ? }} 

"  No.  I  thought  there  was  something  wrong.  She 
wants  to  get  rid  of  you,  so,  instead  of  posting  it,  I 
slunk  behind  a  tree  and  waited.  I  had  hardly  done 
so,  when  the  young  fellow  I  had  seen  at  the  chapel 
came  round  the  corner;  but  I  scarcely  knew  him.  He 
was  dressed  just  like  a  working  man,  in  a  blouse  all 
over  plaster.  They  talked  for  about  ten  minutes,  and 
Mademoiselle  Sabine  gave  him  what  looked  like  a 
photograph." 

By  this  time  the  bottle  was  empty,  and  Florestan 
was  about  to  call  for  another,  when  Mascarin  checked 
him,  saying, — 

"  Not  to-day ;  it  is  growing  late,  and  I  must  tell 
you  what  I  want  you  to  do  for  me.  Is  the  Count  at 
home  now?" 

"  Of  course  he  is ;  he  has  not  left  his  room  for  two 
days,  owing  to  having  slipped  going  downstairs." 

"Well,  my  lad,  I  must  see  your  master;  and  if  I 
sent  up  my  card,  the  odds  are  he  would  not  see  me, 
so  I  rely  upon  you  to  show  me  up  without  announcing 
me." 

Florestan  remained  silent  for  a  few  minutes. 

"  It  is  no  easy  job,"  he  muttered,  "  for  the  Count 
does  not  like  unexpected  visitors,  and  the  Countess  is 
with  him  just  now.  However,  as  I  am  not  going  to 
stay,  I'll  chance  it." 

Mascarin  rose  from  his  seat. 

"We  must  not  be  seen  together,"  said  be;  "I'll 
settle  the  score;  do  you  go  on,  and  I  will  follow 
in  five  minutes.  Remember  we  don't  know  each 
other." 


A   FORGOTTEN    CRIME  61 

a  I  am  fly ;  and  mind  you  look  out  a  good  place  for 
me." 

Mascarin  paid  the  bill,  and  then  looked  into  the  cafe 
to  inform  the  doctor  of  his  movements,  and  a  few  min- 
utes later,  Florestan  in  his  most  sonorous  voice,  threw 
open  the  door  of  his  master's  room  and  announced, — • 

"M.  Mascarin." 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  FORGOTTEN    CRIME. 

BAPTISTE  MASCARIN  had  been  in  so  many  strange  sit- 
uations, from  which  he  had  extricated  himself  with 
safety  and  credit,  that  he  had  the  fullest  self-confi- 
dence, but  as  he  ascended  the  wide  staircase  of  the 
Hotel  de  Mussidan,  he  felt  his  heart  beat  quicker  in 
anticipation  of  the  struggle  that  was  before  him.  It 
was  twilight  out  of  doors,  but  all  within  was  a  blaze 
of  light.  The  library  into  which  he  was  ushered  was 
a  vast  apartment,  furnished  in  severe  taste.  At  the 
sound  of  the  unaristocratic  name  of  Mascarin,  which 
seemed  as  much  out  of  place  as  a  drunkard's  oath  in 
the  chamber  of  sleeping  innocence,  M.  de  Mussidan 
raised  his  head  in  sudden  surprise.  The  Count  was 
seated  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  reading  by  the 
light  of  four  candles  placed  in  a  magnificently  wrought 
candelabra.  He  threw  down  his  paper,  and  raising  his 
glasses,  gazed  with  astonishment  at  Mascarin,  who, 
with  his  hat  in  his  hand  and  his  heart  in  his  mouth, 
slowly  crossed  the  room,  muttering  a  few  unintelligi- 
ble apologies.  He  could  make  nothing,  however,  of 
his  visitor,  and  said,  "  Whom  do  you  wish  to  see,  sir?  " 


62  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"The  Count  de  Mussidan,"  stuttered  Mascarin; 
"and  I  hope  that  you  will  forgive  this  intrusion." 

The  Count  cut  his  excuse  short  with  a  haughty 
wave  of  his  hand.  "Wait/'  said  he  imperiously.  He 
then  with  evident  pain  rose  from  his  seat,  and  crossing 
the  room,  rang  the  bell  violently,  and  then  reseated 
himself.  Mascarin,  who  still  remained  in  the  centre 
of  the  room,  inwardly  wondered  if  after  all  he  was  to 
be  turned  out  of  the  house.  In  another  second  the 
door  opened,  and  the  figure  of  the  faithful  Florestan 
appeared. 

"  Florestan,"  said  the  Count  angrily,  "  this  is  the 
first  time  that  you  have  permitted  any  one  to  enter 
this  room  without  my  permission ;  if  this  occurs  again, 
you  leave  my  service." 

"  I  assure  your  lordship,"  began  the  man. 

"Enough!  I  have  spoken;  you  know  what  to  ex- 
pect." 

During  this  brief  colloquy,  Mascarin  studied  the 
Count  with  the  deepest  attention. 

The  Count  Octave  de  Mussidan  in  no  way  resembled 
the  man  sketched  by  Florestan.  Since  the  time  of 
Montaigne,  a  servant's  portrait  of  his  employer  should 
always  be  distrusted.  The  Count  looked  fully  sixty, 
though  he  was  but  fifty  years  of  age;  he  was  under- 
sized, and  he  looked  shrunk  and  shrivelled;  he  was 
nearly  bald,  and  his  long  whiskers  were  perfectly  white. 
The  cares  of  life  had  imprinted  deep  furrows  on  his 
brow,  and  told  too  plainly  the  story  of  a  man  who, 
having  drained  the  chalice  of  life  to  the  bottom,  was 
now  ready  to  shiver  the  goblet.  As  Florestan  left  the 
room  the  Count  turned  to  Mascarin,  and  in  the  same 
glacial  tone  observed,  "  And  now,  sir,  explain  this  in- 
trusion." 


A  FORGOTTEN   CRIME  63 

Mascarin  had  often  been  rebuffed,  but  never  so 
cruelly  as  this.  His  vanity  was  sorely  wounded,  for 
he  was  vain,  as  all  are  who  think  that  they  possess 
some  hidden  influence,  and  he  felt  his  temper  giving 
way. 

"  Pompous  idiot ! "  thought  he ;  "  we  will  see  how  he 
looks  in  a  short  time ; "  but  his  face  did  not  betray  this, 
and  his  manner  remained  cringing  and  obsequious. 
"  You  have  heard  my  name,  my  lord,  and  I  am  a  gen- 
eral business  agent." 

The  Count  was  deceived  by  the  honest  accents  which 
long  practice  had  taught  Mascarin  to  use,  and  he  had 
neither  a  suspicion  nor  a  presentiment. 

"  Ah ! "  said  he  majestically,  "  a  business  agent,  are 
you?  I  presume  you  come  on  behalf  of  one  of  my 
creditors.  Well,  sir,  as  I  have  before  told  these  peo- 
ple, your  errand  is  a  futile  one.  Why  do  they  worry 
me  when  I  unhesitatingly  pay  the  extravagant  interest 
they  are  pleased  to  demand?  They  know  that  they  are 
all  knaves.  They  are  aware  that  I  am  rich,  for  I  have 
inherited  a  great  fortune,  which  is  certainly  without 
encumbrance;  for  though  I  could  raise  a  million  to- 
morrow upon  my  estates  in  Poitiers,  I  have  up  to  this 
time  not  chosen  to  do  so." 

Mascarin  had  at  length  so  recovered  his  self-com- 
mand that  he  listened  to  this  speech  without  a  word, 
hoping  to  gain  some  information  from  it. 

"  You  may  tell  this,"  continued  the  Count,  "  to  those 
by  whom  you  are  employed." 

"  Excuse  me,  my  lord n 

"But  what?" 

"  I  cannot  allow " 

"  I  have  nothing  more  to  say ;  all  will  be  settled  as 
I  promised,  when  I  pay  my  daughter's  dowry.  You 


64  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

are  aware  that  she  will  shortly  be  united  to  M.  de 
Breulh-Faverlay." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  order  to  go,  contained 
in  these  words,  but  Mascarin  did  not  offer  to  do  so, 
but  readjusting  his  spectacles,  remarked  in  a  perfectly 
calm  voice, — 

"  It  is  this  marriage  that  has  brought  me  here/' 

The  Count  thought  that  his  ears  had  deceived  him. 
"What  are  you  saying?"  said  he. 

"  I  say/'  repeated  the  agent,  "  that  I  am  sent  to  you 
in  connection  with  this  same  marriage." 

Neither  the  doctor  nor  Florestan  had  exaggerated 
the  violence  of  the  Count's  temper.  Upon  hearing  his 
daughter's  name  and  marriage  mentioned  by  this  man, 
his  face  grew  crimson  and  his  eyes  gleamed  with  a 
lurid  fire. 

"  Get  out  of  this ! "  cried  he,  angrily. 

But  this  was  an  order  that  Mascarin  had  no  inten- 
tion of  obeying. 

"I  assure  you  that  what  I  have  to  say  is  of  the 
utmost  importance,"  said  he. 

This  speech  put  the  finishing  touch  to  the  Count's  fury. 

"  You  won't  go,  won't  you  ?  "  said  he ;  and  in  spite 
of  the  pain  that  at  the  moment  evidently  oppressed 
him,  he  stepped  to  the  bell,  but  was  arrested  by  Mas- 
carin, uttering  in  a  warning  voice  the  words, — 

"Take  care;  if  you  ring  that  bell,  you  will  regret 
it  to  the  last  day  of  your  life." 

This  was  too  much  for  the  Count's  patience,  and 
letting  go  the  bell  rope,  he  snatched  up  a  walking  cane 
that  was  leaning  against  the  chimneypiece,  and  made  a 
rush  toward  his  visitor.  But  Mascarin  did  not  move 
or  lift  his  hand  in  self-defence,  contenting  himself  with 
saying  calmly, — 


A   FORGOTTEN   CRIME  65 

"  No  violence,  Count ;  remember  Montlouis." 

At  this  name  the  Count  grew  livid,  and  dropping  the 
cane  from  his  nerveless  hand  staggered  back  a  pace 
or  two.  Had  a  spectre  suddenly  stood  up  before  him 
with  threatening  hand,  he  could  not  have  been  more 
horrified. 

"Montlouis!"  he  murmured;  "Montlouis!" 

But  now  Mascarin,  thoroughly  assured  of  the  value 
of  his  weapon,  had  resumed  all  his  humbleness  of  de- 
meanor. 

"  Believe  me,  my  lord,"  said  he,  "  that  I  only  men- 
tion this  name  on  account  of  the  immediate  danger 
that  threatens  you." 

The  Count  hardly  seemed  to  pay  attention  to  his 
visitor's  words. 

"  It  was  not  I,"  continued  Mascarin,  "  who  devised 
the  project  of  bringing  against  you  an  act  which  was 
perhaps  a  mere  accident.  I  am  only  a  plenipotentiary 
from  persons  I  despise,  to  you,  for  whom  I  entertain 
the  very  highest  respect." 

By  this  time  the  Count  had  somewhat  recovered 
himself. 

"  I  really  do  not  understand  you,"  said  he,  in  a  tone 
he  vainly  endeavored  to  render  calm.  "  My  sudden 
emotion  is  only  too  easily  explained.  I  had  a  sad 
misfortune.  I  accidentally  shot  my  secretary,  and  the 
poor  young  man  bore  the  name  you  just  now  men- 
tioned; but  the  court  acquitted  me  of  all  blame  in  the 
matter." 

The  smile  upon  Mascarin's  face  was  so  full  of  sar- 
casm that  the  Count  broke  off. 

"  Those  who  sent  me  here,"  remarked  the  agent, 
slowly,  "  are  well  acquainted  with  the  evidence  pro- 
duced in  court;  but  unfortunately,  they  know  the  real 


66  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

facts,  which  certain  honorable  gentlemen  had  sense  to 
conceal  at  any  risk." 

Again  the  Count  started,  but  Mascarin  went  on  im- 
placably,— 

"  But  reassure  yourself,  your  friend  did  not  betray 
you  voluntarily.  Providence,  in  her  inscrutable  de- 

The  Count  shuddered. 

"  In  short,  sir,  in  short " 

Up  to  this  time  Mascarin  had  remained  standing, 
but  now  that  he  saw  that  his  position  was  fully  estab- 
lished, he  drew  up  a  chair  and  sat  down.  The  Count 
grew  more  livid  at  this  insolent  act,  but  made  no  com- 
ment, and  this  entirely  removed  any  doubts  from  the 
agent's  mind. 

"The  event  to  which  I  have  alluded  had  two  eye- 
witnesses, the  Baron  de  Clinchain,  and  a  servant, 
named  Ludovic  Trofin,  now  in  the  employ  of  the 
Count  du  Commarin." 

"  I  did  not  know  what  had  become  of  Trofin." 

"Perhaps  not,  but  my  people  do.  When  he  swore 
to  keep  the  matter  secret,  he  was  unmarried,  but  a 
few  years  later,  having  entered  the  bonds  of  matri- 
mony, he  told  all  to  his  young  wife.  This  woman 
turned  out  badly;  she  had  several  lovers,  and  through 
one  of  them  the  matter  came  to  my  employer's  ears." 

"  And  it  was  on  the  word  of  a  lackey,  and  the  gos- 
sip of  a  dissolute  woman,  that  they  have  dared  to  ac- 
cuse me." 

No  word  of  direct  accusation  had  passed,  and  yet 
the  Count  sought  to  defend  himself. 

Mascarin  saw  all  this,  and  smiled  inwardly,  as  he 
replied,  "  We  have  other  evidence  than  that  of  Lu- 
dovic." 


A   FORGOTTEN    CRIME  67 

"  But,"  said  the  Count,  who  was  sure  of  the  fidelity 
of  his  friend,  "  you  do  not,  I  suppose,  pretend  that  the 
Baron  de  Clinchain  has  deceived  me?" 

The  state  of  mental  anxiety  and  perturbation  into 
which  this  man  of  the  world  had  been  thrown  must 
have  been  very  intense  for  him  not  to  have  perceived 
that  every  word  he  uttered  put  a  fresh  weapon  in  his 
adversary's  hands. 

"He  has  not  denounced  you  by  word  of  mouth," 
replied  the  agent.  "He  has  done  far  more;  he  has 
written  his  testimony." 

"  It  is  a  lie,"  exclaimed  the  Count. 

Mascarin  was  not  disturbed  by  this  insult. 

"The  Baron  has  written,"  repeated  he,  "though  he 
never  thought  that  any  eye  save  his  own  would  read 
what  he  had  penned.  As  you  are  aware,  the  Baron 
de  Clinchain  is  a  most  methodical  man,  and  punctilious 
to  a  degree." 

"  I  allow  that ;  continue." 

"  Consequently  you  will  not  be  surprised  to  learn 
that  from  his  earliest  years  he  has  kept  a  diary,  and 
each  day  he  puts  down  in  the  most  minute  manner 
everything  that  has  occurred,  even  to  the  different  con- 
ditions of  his  bodily  health." 

The  Count  knew  of  his  friend's  foible,  and  remem- 
bered that  when  they  were  young  many  a  practical 
joke  had  been  played  upon  his  friend  on  this  account, 
and  now  he  began  to  perceive  the  dangerous  ground 
upon  which  he  stood. 

"  On  learning  the  facts  of  the  case  from  Ludovic's 
wife's  lover,"  continued  Mascarin,  a  my  employers 
decided  that  if  the  tale  was  a  true  one,  some  mention 
of  it  would  be  found  in  the  Baron's  diary;  and  thanks 
to  the  ingenuity  and  skill  of  certain  parties,  they  have 


68  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

had  in  their  possession  for  twenty-four  hours  the  vol- 
ume for  the  year  1842." 

"Scoundrels!"  muttered  the  Count. 

"  They  find  not  one  only,  but  three  distinct  state- 
ments relating  to  the  affair  in  question." 

The  Count  started  again  to  his  feet  with  so  men- 
acing a  look,  that  the  worthy  Mascarin  pushed  back 
his  chair  in  anticipation  of  an  immediate  assault. 

"  Proofs !  "  gasped  the  Count.     "  Give  me  proofs." 

"  Everything  has  been  provided  for,  and  the  three 
leaves  by  which  you  are  so  deeply  compromised  have 
been  cut  from  the  book." 

"  Where  are  these  pages  ?  " 

Mascarin  at  once  put  on  an  air  of  injured  innocence. 

"I  have  not  seen  them,  but  the  leaves  have  been 
photographed,  and  a  print  has  been  entrusted  to  me, 
in  order  to  enable  you  to  recognize  the  writing." 

As  he  spoke  he  produced  three  specimens  of  the 
photographic  art,  wonderfully  clear  and  full  of  fidelity. 
The  Count  examined  them  with  the  utmost  attention, 
and  then  in  a  voice  which  trembled  with  emotion,  he 
said,  "  True  enough,  it  is  his  handwriting." 

Not  a  line  upon  Mascarin's  face  indicated  the  delight 
with  which  he  received  this  admission. 

"  Before  continuing  the  subject,"  he  observed  placid- 
ly, "  I  consider  it  necessary  for  you  to  understand  the 
position  taken  up  by  the  Baron  de  Clinchain.  Do  you 
wish,  my  lord,  to  read  these  extracts,  or  shall  I  do  so 
for  you  ?  " 

"  Read,"  answered  the  Count,  adding  in  a  lower 
voice,  "  I  cannot  see  to  do  so." 

Mascarin  drew  his  chair  nearer  to  the  lights  on  the 
table.  "  I  perceive,"  said  he,  "  that  the  first  entry  was 
made  on  the  evening  after  the — well,  the  accident. 


A   FORGOTTEN    CRIME  69 

This  is  it:  'October  26,  1842.  Early  this  morning 
went  out  shootmg  with  Octave  de  Mussidan.  We 
were  accompanied  by  Ludovic,  a  groom,  and  by  a 
young  man  named  Montlouis,  whom  Octave  intends 
one  day  to  make  his  steward.  It  was  a  splendid  day, 
and  by  twelve  o'clock  I  had  killed  a  leash  of  hares. 
Octave  was  in  excellent  spirits,  and  by  one  o'clock  we 
were  in  a  thick  cover  not  far  from  Bevron.  I  and 
Ludovic  were  a  few  yards  in  front  of  the  others,  when 
angry  voices  behind  attracted  our  attention.  Octave 
and  Montlouis  were  arguing  violently,  and  all  at  once 
the  Count  struck  his  future  steward  a  violent  blow. 
In  another  moment  Montlouis  came  up  to  me.  "  What 
is  the  matter  ? "  cried  I.  Instead  of  replying  to  my 
question,  the  unhappy  young  man  turned  back  to  his 
master,  uttering  a  series  of  threats.  Octave  had  evi- 
dently been  reproaching  him  for  some  low  intrigue  he 
had  been  engaged  in,  and  was  reflecting  upon  the  char- 
acter of  the  woman.  "  At  any  rate,"  cried  Montlouis, 
"she  is  quite  as  virtuous  as  Madame  de  Mussidan 
was  before  her  marriage." 

" '  As  Octave  heard  these  words,  he  raised  the  loaded 
gun  he  held  in  his  hand  and  fired.  Montlouis  fell  to 
the  ground,  bathed  in  blood.  We  all  ran  up  to  him, 
but  he  was  quite  dead,  for  the  charge  of  shot  had  pene- 
trated his  heart.  I  was  almost  beside  myself,  but 
Octave's  despair  was  terrible  to  witness.  Tearing  his 
hair,  he  knelt  beside  the  dead  man.  Ludovic,  however, 
maintained  his  calmness.  "We  must  say  that  it 
was  an  accident,"  observed  he  quickly.  "Thinking 
that  Montlouis  was  not  near,  my  master  fired  into 
cover." 

"  'This  was  agreed  to,  and  we  carefully  arranged 
what  we  should  say.  It  was  I  who  went  before  the 


70  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

magistrate  and  made  a  deposition,  which  was  unhesi- 
tatingly received.  But,  oh,  what  a  fearful  day!  My 
pulse  is  at  eighty,  and  I  feel  I  shall  not  sleep  all  night. 
Octave  is  half  mad,  and  Heaven  knows  what  will  be- 
come of  him/  " 

The  Count,  from  the  depths  of  his  armchair,  lis- 
tened without  apparent  emotion  to  this  terrible  reve- 
lation. He  was  quite  crushed,  and  was  searching  for 
some  means  to  exorcise  the  green  spectre  of  the  past, 
which  had  so  suddenly  confronted  him.  Mascarin 
never  took  his  eyes  off  him.  All  at  once  the  Count 
roused  himself  from  his  prostration,  as  a  man  awakes 
from  a  hideous  dream.  "  This  is  sheer  folly,"  cried  he. 

"  It  is  folly  ,"  answered  Mascarin,  "  that  would  carry 
much  weight  with  it." 

"And  suppose  I  were  to  show  you,"  returned  the 
Count,  "that  all  these  entries  are  the  offspring  of  a 
diseased  mind  ?  " 

Mascarin  shook  his  head  with  an  air  of  affected 
grief.  "  There  is  no  use,  my  lord,  in  indulging  in  vain 
hopes.  We,"  he  continued,  wishing  to  associate  him- 
self with  the  Count,  "  we  might  of  course  admit  that 
the  Baron  de  Clinchain  had  made  this  entry  in  his 
diary  in  a  moment  of  temporary  insanity,  were  it  not 
for  the  painful  fact  that  there  are  others.  Let  me 
read  them." 

"  Go  on ;  I  am  all  attention." 

"  We  find  the  following,  three  days  later :  '  Oct.  29th, 
1842.  I  am  most  uneasy  about  my  health.  I  feel 
shooting  pains  in  all  my  joints.  The  derangement  of 
my  system  arises  entirely  from  this  business  of  Oc- 
tave's. I  had  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  a  second  court, 
and  the  judge's  eyes  seemed  to  look  me  through  and 
through.  I  also  saw  with  much  alarm  that  my  second 


A   FORGOTTEN   CRIME  71 

statement  differs  somewhat  from  the  first  one,  so  I 
have  now  learned  it  by  heart.  Ludovic  is  a  sharp  fel- 
low, and  quite  Self-possessed.  I  would  like  to  have 
him  in  my  household.  I  keep  myself  shut  up  in  my 
house  for  fear  of  meeting  friends  who  want  to  hear 
all  the  details  of  the  accident.  I  believe  I  may  say 
that  I  have  repeated  the  story  more  than  a  couple  of 
dozen  times/  Now,  my  lord,"  added  Mascariu,  "  what 
do  you  say  to  this  ?  " 

te  Continue  the  reading  of  the  extracts." 

"The  third  allusion,  though  it  is  short,  is  still  very 
important:  ' November  3rd,  1842.  Thank  Heaven!  all 
is  over.  I  have  just  returned  from  the  court.  Octave 
has  been  acquitted.  Ludovic  has  behaved  wonderfully. 
He  explained  the  reason  of  the  misadventure  in  a  way 
that  was  really  surprising  in  an  uneducated  man,  and 
there  was  not  an  atom  of  suspicion  among  judge,  jury, 
or  spectators.  I  have  changed  my  mind;  I  would  not 
have  a  fellow  like  Ludovic  in  my  service;  he  is  much 
too  sharp.  When  I  had  been  duly  sworn,  I  gave  my 
evidence.  Though  I  was  much  agitated,  I  went  through 
it  all  right;  but  when  I  got  home  I  felt  very  ill,  and 
discovered  that  my  pulse  was  down  to  fifty.  Ah,  me ! 
what  terrible  misfortunes  are  wrought  by  a  momentary 
burst  of  anger.  I  now  write  this  sentence  in  my  diary : 
"  Never  give  way  to  first  impulses." '  These  words," 
continued  Mascarin,  "  were  inscribed  on  every  one  of 
the  pages  following, — at  least  so  those  who  examined 
the  entries  informed  me." 

Mascarin  persisted  in  representing  himself  as  the 
agent  of  others,  but  still  the  Count  made  no  allusion  to 
the  persons  in  the  background. 

After  a  few  moments  the  Count  rose  and  limped  up 
and  down,  as  though  he  hoped  by  this  means  to  col- 


72  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

lect  his  ideas,  or  perhaps  in  order  to  prevent  his  visitor 
from  scanning  his  face  too  closely. 

"  Have  you  done  ?  "  asked  he,  all  at  once. 

"Yes,  my  lord." 

"  Have  you  thought  what  an  impartial  judge  would 
say?" 

"  I  think  I  have." 

"  He  would  say,"  broke  in  the  Count,  "  that  no  sane 
man  would  have  written  such  things  down,  for  there 
are  certain  secrets  which  we  do  not  whisper  even  to 
ourselves,  and  it  is  hardly  likely  that  any  man  would 
make  such  compromising  entries  in  a  diary  which  might 
be  lost  or  stolen,  and  which  would  certainly  be  read  by 
his  heir.  Do  you  think  that  a  man  of  high  position 
would  record  his  perjury,  which  is  a  crime  that  would 
send  him  to  penal  servitude  ?  " 

Mascarin  gazed  upon  the  Count  with  an  air  of  pity. 

"You  are  not  going  the  right  way,  my  lord,  to  get 
out  of  your  trouble.  No  lawyer  would  adopt  your 
theory.  If  the  remaining  volumes  of  M.  de  Ginchain's 
diaries  were  produced  in  court,  I  imagine  that  other 
equally  startling  entries  would  be  found  in  them/' 

The  Count  now  appeared  to  have  arrived  at  some  de- 
cision, and  to  continue  the  conversation  simply  for  the 
purpose  of  gaining  time. 

"  Well/'  said  he,  "  I  will  give  up  this  idea ;  but  how 
do  I  know  that  these  documents  are  not  forgeries? 
Nowadays,  handwritings  are  easily  facsimilied,  when 
even  bankers  find  it  hard  to  distinguish  between  their 
own  notes  and  counterfeit  ones." 

"That  can  be  settled  by  seeing  if  certain  leares  are 
missing  from  the  Baron's  diary." 

"That  does  not  prove  much." 

"  Pardon  me,  it  proves  a  great  deal.    This  new  line 


A   FORGOTTEN   CRIME  73 

of  argument,  I  assure  you,  will  avail  you  as  little  as 
the  other.  I  am  perfectly  aware  that  the  Baron  de 
CHnchain  will  utter  whatever  words  you  may  place  in 
his  mouth.  Let  us  suppose  that  the  leaves  which  have 
been  torn  out  should  fit  into  the  book  exactly.  Would 
not  that  be  a  strong  point  ?  " 

The  Count  smiled  ironically,  as  though  he  had  a 
crushing  reply  in  reserve. 

"  And  so  this  is  your  opinion,  is  it  ?  "  said  he. 

"  It  is  indeed." 

"  Then  all  I  have  to  do  is  to  plead  guilty.  I  did  kill 

Montlouis,  just  as  CHnchain  describes,  but "  and 

as  he  spoke  he  took  a  heavy  volume  from  a  shelf,  and 
opening  it  at  a  certain  place  laid  it  before  Mascarin, 
remarking, — "  this  is  the  criminal  code ;  read.  '  All 
proceedings  in  criminal  law  shall  be  cancelled  after  a 
lapse  of  ten  years/  " 

The  Count  de  Mussidan  evidently  thought  that  he 
had  crushed  his  adversary  by  this  shattering  blow ;  but 
it  was  not  so,  for  instead  of  exhibiting  any  surprise, 
Mascarin's  smile  was  as  bland  as  ever. 

"I,  too,  know  a  little  of  the  law,"  said  he.  "The 
very  first  day  this  matter  was  brought  to  me,  I  turned 
to  this  page  and  read  what  you  have  just  shown  me 
to  my  employers/' 

"  And  what  did  they  say  ?  " 

"That  they  knew  all  this,  but  that  you  would  be 
glad  to  compromise  the  affair,  even  at  the  expense  of 
half  your  fortune." 

The  agent's  manner  was  so  confident  that  the  Count 
felt  they  had  discovered  some  means  of  turning  this 
crime  of  his  early  days  to  advantage;  but  he  was  still 
sufficiently  master  of  himself  to  show  no  emotion. 

"  No,"  replied  he,  "  it  is  not  such  an  easy  matter  as 


74  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

you  think  to  get  hold  of  half  my  fortune.  I  fancy  that 
your  friends'  demands  will  assume  a  more  modest  tone, 
the  more  so  when  I  repeat  that  these  morsels  of  paper, 
stolen  from  my  friend's  diary,  are  absolutely  worthless." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  for  the  law  on  this  matter  speaks  plainly 
enough/' 

Mascarin  readjusted  his  glasses,  a  sure  indication 
that  he  was  going  to  make  an  important  reply. 

"  You  are  quite  right,  my  lord,"  said  he,  slowly. 
"  There  is  no  intention  of  taking  you  before  any  court, 
for  there  is  no  penalty  now  for  a  crime  committed 
twenty-three  years  ago;  but  the  miserable  wretches 
whom  I  blush  to  act  for  have  arranged  a  plan  which 
will  be  disagreeable  in  the  highest  degree  both  for 
you  and  the  Baron." 

"  Pray  tell  me  what  this  clever  plan  is." 

"Most  certainly.  I  came  here  to-day  for  this  very 
purpose.  Let  us  first  conclude  that  you  have  rejected 
the  request  with  which  I  approached  you." 

"  Do  you  call  this  style  of  thing  a  request  ?  " 

"  What  is  the  use  of  quarrelling  over  words.  Well, 
to-morrow,  my  clients — though  I  am  ashamed  to  speak 
of  them  as  such — will  send  to  a  well  known  morning 
paper  a  tale,  with  the  title,  '  Story  of  a  Day's  Shooting/ 
Of  course  only  initials  will  be  used  for  the  names,  but 
no  doubt  will  exist  as  to  the  identity  of  the  actors  in 
the  tragedy."1 

"  You  forget  that  in  actions  for  libel  proofs  are  not 
admitted." 

Mascarin  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  My  employers  forget  nothing,"  remarked  he ;  "  and 
it  is  upon  this  very  point  that  they  have  based  their 
plans.  For  this  reason  they  introduce  into  the  matter 


A   FORGOTTEN    CRIME  75 

a  fifth  party,  of  course  an  accomplice,  whose  name  is 
introduced  into  the  story  in  the  paper.  Upon  the  day 
of  its  appearance,  this  man  lodges  a  complaint  against 
the  journal,  and  insists  on  proving  in  a  court  of  justice, 
that  he  did  not  form  one  of  the  shooting-party." 

"Well,  what  happens  then?" 

"Then,  my  lord,  this  man  insists  that  the  journal 
should  give  a  retraction  of  the  injurious  statement  and 
summons  as  witnesses  both  yourself  and  the  Baron  de 
Clinchain,  and  as  a  conclusion,  Ludovic;  and  as  he 
claims  damages,  he  employs  a  lawyer,  who  is  one  of 
the  confederates  and  behind  the  scenes.  The  lawyer 
will  speak  something  to  this  effect:  'That  the  Count 
de  Mussidan  is  clearly  a  murderer;  that  the  Baron  de 
Clinchain  is  a  perjurer,  as  proved  by  his  own  hand- 
writing; Ludovic  has  been  tampered  with,  but  my 
client,  an  honorable  man,  must  not  be  classed  with 
these,  etc.,  etc/  Have  I  made  myself  understood  ?  " 

Indeed,  he  had,  and  with  such  cold  and  merciless 
logic  that  it  seemed  hopeless  to  expect  to  escape  from 
the  net  that  had  been  spread. 

As  these  thoughts  passed  through  the  Count's  brain, 
he  saw  at  a  glance  the  whole  terrible  notoriety  that  the 
case  would  cause,  and  society  gloating  over  the  details. 
Yet  such  was  the  obstinacy  of  his  disposition,  and  so 
impatient  was  he  of  control,  that  the  more  desperate 
his  position  seemed,  the  fiercer  was  his  resistance.  He 
knew  the  world  well,  and  he  also  knew  that  the  cut- 
throats who  demanded  his  money  with  threats  had 
every  reason  to  dread  the  lynx  eye  of  the  law.  If  he 
refused  to  listen  to  them,  as  his  heart  urged  him,  per- 
haps they  would  not  dare  to  carry  out  their  threats. 
Had  he  alone  been  concerned  in  the  matter,  he  would 
have  resisted  to  the  last,  and  fought  it  out  to  the  last 


76  CAUGHT    IN    THE   NET 

drop  01  his  blood,  and  as  a  preliminary,  would  have 
beaten  the  sneering  rogue  before  him  to  a  jelly;  but 
how  dared  he  expose  his  friend  Clinchain,  who  had 
already  braved  so  much  for  him  ?  As  he  paced  up  and 
down  the  library,  these  and  many  other  thoughts  swept 
across  his  brain,  and  he  was  undecided  whether  to  sub- 
mit to  these  extortions  or  throw  the  agent  out  of  the 
window.  His  excited  demeanor  and  the  occasional  in- 
terjections that  burst  from  his  lips  showed  Mascarin 
that  the  account  of  him  was  not  exaggerated,  and  that 
when  led  by  passion  he  would  as  soon  shoot  a  fellow- 
creature  as  a  rabbit.  And  yet,  though  he  knew  not 
whether  he  should  make  his  exit  by  the  door  or  the 
window,  he  sat  twirling  his  fingers  with  the  most  un- 
concerned air  imaginable.  At  last  the  Count  gave  ear 
to  prudence.  He  stopped  in  front  of  the  agent,  and, 
taking  no  pains  to  hide  his  contempt,  said, — 

"  Come,  let  us  make  an  end  of  this.  How  much  do 
you  want  for  these  papers  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  lord !  "  exclaimed  Mascarin ;  "  surely  you 
do  not  think  that  I  could  be  guilty ?" 

M.  de  Mussidan  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Pray,  do 
not  take  me  for  a  fool/'  said  he,  "  but  name  your  sum." 

Mascarin  seemed  a  little  embarrassed,  and  hesitated. 
"  We  don't  want  money,"  answered  he  at  length. 

"Not  money!"  replied  the  Count. 

"We  want  something  that  is  of  no  importance  to 
you,  but  of  the  utmost  value  to  those  who  despatched 
me  here.  I  am  commissioned  to  inform  you  that  my 
clients  desire  that  you  should  break  off  the  engagement 
between  your  daughter  and  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay,  and 
that  the  missing  paper  will  be  handed  to  you  on  the 
completion  of  her  marriage  with  any  one  else  whom  you 
may  deem  worthy  of  such  an  honor." 


A   FORGOTTEN   CRIME  77 

This  demand,  which  was  utterly  unexpected,  so  as- 
tonished the  Count  that  he  could  only  exclaim,  "  Why, 
this  is  absolute  madness !  " 

"  No ;  it  is  plain,  good  sense,  and  a  bona  fide  offer." 

An  idea  suddenly  flashed  across  the  Count's  mind. 
"  Is  it  your  intention,"  asked  he,  "  to  furnish  me  with 
a  son-in-law  too?" 

"  I  am  sure,  my  lord,"  answered  Mascarin,  looking 
the  picture  of  disinterested  honesty,  "that,  even  to 
save  yourself,  you  would  never  sacrifice  your  daughter." 

«  But " 

"You  are  entirely  mistaken;  it  is  M.  de  Breulh- 
Faverlay  whom  my  clients  wish  to  strike  at,  for  they 
have  taken  an  oath  that  he  shall  never  wed  a  lady  with 
a  million  for  her  dowry." 

So  surprised  was  the  Count,  that  the  whole  aspect 
of  the  interview  seemed  to  have  changed,  and  he  now 
combated  his  own  objections  instead  of  those  of  his 
unwelcome  visitor.  "  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay  has  my 
promise,"  remarked  he;  "but  of  course  it  is  easy  to 
find  a  pretext.  The  Countess,  however,  is  in  favor  of 
the  match,  and  the  chief  opposition  to  any  change  will 
come  from  her." 

Mascarin  did  not  think  it  wise  to  make  any  reply, 
and  the  Count  continued,  "  My  daughter  also  may  not 
view  this  rupture  with  satisfaction." 

Thanks  to  the  information  he  had  received  from 
Florestan,  Mascarin  knew  how  much  importance  to 
attach  to  this.  "  Mademoiselle,  at  her  age  and  with 
her  tastes,  is  not  likely  to  have  her  heart  seriously  en- 
gaged." For  fully  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  Count  still 
hesitated.  He  knew  that  he  was  entirely  at  the  mercy 
of  those  miscreants,  and  his  pride  revolted  at  the  idea 
of  submission ;  but  at  length  he  yielded. 


78  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

"  I  agree/'  said  he.  "  My  daughter  shall  not  marry 
M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay." 

Even  in  his  hour  of  triumph,  Mascarin's  face  did  not 
change.  He  bowed  profoundly,  and  left  the  room ;  but 
as  he  descended  the  stairs,  he  rubbed  his  hands,  ex- 
claiming, "If  the  doctor  has  made  as  good  a  job  of 
it  as  I  have,  success  is  certain." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A  MEDICAL  ADVISER. 

DOCTOR  HORTEBISE  did  not  find  it  necessary  to  resort 
to  any  of  those  expedients  which  Mascarin  had  found 
it  advisable  to  use  in  order  to  reach  Madame  de  Mussi- 
dan.  As  soon  as  he  presented  himself — that  is,  after  a 
brief  interval  of  five  minutes — he  was  introduced  into 
the  presence  of  the  Countess.  He  rather  wondered  at 
this,  for  Madame  de  Mussidan  was  one  of  those  rest- 
less spirits  that  are  seldom  found  at  home,  but  are  to 
be  met  with  at  exhibitions,  on  race-courses,  at  the 
salons,  restaurants,  shops,  or  theatres ;  or  at  the  studio 
of  some  famous  artist;  or  at  the  rooms  of  some  musi- 
cal professor  who  had  discovered  a  new  tenor;  any- 
where and  everywhere,  in  fact,  except  at  home.  Hers 
was  one  of  those  restless  natures  constantly  craving  for 
excitement;  and  husband,  home,  and  child  were  mere 
secondary  objects  in  her  eyes.  She  had  many  avoca- 
tions; she  was  a  patroness  of  half  a  dozen  charitable 
institutions,  but  the  chief  thing  that  she  did  was  to 
spend  money.  Gold  seemed  to  melt  in  her  grasp  like 
so  much  snow,  and  she  never  knew  what  became  of 


A   MEDICAL   ADVISER  79 

the  sums  she  lavished  so  profusely.  Husband  and  wife 
had  long  been  almost  totally  estranged,  and  led  almost 
separate  existences.  Dr.  Hortebise  was  well  aware  of 
this,  in  common  with  others  who  moved  in  society. 
Upon  the  appearance  of  the  doctor,  the  Countess 
dropped  the  book  she  had  been  perusing,  and  gave  vent 
to  an  exclamation  of  delight.  "Ah,  doctor,  this  is 
really  very  kind  of  you ; "  and  at  the  same  time  signed 
to  the  servant  to  place  a  chair  for  the  visitor. 

The  Countess  was  tall  and  slender,  and  at  forty-five 
had  the  figure  of  a  girl.  She  had  an  abundance  of  fair 
hair,  the  color  of  which  concealed  the  silver  threads 
which  plentifully  interspersed  it.  A  subtle  perfume 
hung  about  her,  and  her  pale  blue  eyes  were  full  of 
pride  and  cold  disdain. 

"You  know  how  to  time  your  visits  so  well,  doc- 
tor ! "  said  she.  "  I  am  thoroughly  bored,  and  am  ut- 
terly weary  of  books,  for  it  always  seems  to  me,  when 
I  read,  that  I  had  perused  the  same  thing  before  some- 
where or  other.  You  have  arrived  at  so  opportune  a 
moment,  that  you  appear  to  be  a  favorite  of  timely 
chance." 

The  doctor  was  indeed  a  favorite  of  chance;  but  the 
name  of  chance  was  Baptiste  Mascarin. 

"  I  see  so  few  visitors/'  continued  Madame  de  Mus- 
sidan,  "that  hardly  any  one  comes  to  see  me.  I  must 
really  set  aside  one  day  in  the  week  for  my  at  home; 
for  when  I  do  happen  to  stay  at  home,  I  feel  fearfully 
dull  and  lonely.  For  two  mortal  hours  I  have  been  in 
this  room.  I  have  been  nursing  the  Count." 

The  doctor  knew  better  than  this;  but  he  smiled 
pleasantly,  and  said,  "Perfectly  so,"  exactly  at  the 
right  moment. 

"Yes,"    continued    the    Countess,    "my    husband 


80  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

slipped  on  the  stairs,  and  hurt  himself  very  much.  Our 
doctor  says  it  is  nothing;  but  then  I  put  little  faith  in 
what  doctors  say." 

"  I  know  that  by  experience,  madame,"  replied 
Hortebise. 

"  Present  company  of  course  always  excepted ;  but, 
do  you  know,  I  once  really  believed  in  you;  but  your 
sudden  conversion  to  homeopathy  quite  frightened 
me." 

The  doctor  smiled.  "  It  is  as  safe  a  mode  of  prac- 
tice as  any  other." 

"Do  you  really  think  so?" 

"  I  am  perfectly  sure  of  it." 

"Well,  now  that  you  are  here,  I  am  half  inclined 
to  ask  your  advice." 

"  I  trust  that  you  are  not  suffering." 

"  No,  thank  heaven ;  I  have  never  any  cause  to  com- 
plain of  my  health;  but  I  am  very  anxious  about 
Sabine's  state." 

Her  affectation  of  maternal  solicitude  was  a  charm- 
ing pendant  to  her  display  of  conjugal  affection,  and 
again  the  doctor's  expression  of  assent  came  in  in  the 
right  place. 

"Yes,  for  a  month,  doctor,  I  have  hardly  seen 
Sabine,  I  have  been  so  much  engaged ;  but  yesterday  I 
met  her,  and  was  quite  shocked  at  the  change  in  her 
appearance." 

"  Did  you  ask  her  what  ailed  her? " 

"Of  course,  and  she  said,  *  Nothing,'  adding  that 
she  was  perfectly  well." 

"  Perhaps  something  had  vexed  her  ?  " 

"  She, — why,  don't  you  know  that  every  one  likes 
her,  and  that  she  is  one  of  the  happiest  girls  in  Paris; 
but  I  want  you  to  see  her  in  spite  of  that."  She  rang 


A   MEDICAL   ADVISER  81 

the  bell  as  she  spoke,  and  as  soon  as  the  footman  made 
his  appearance,  said,  "  Lubin,  ask  Mademoiselle  to 
have  the  goodness  to  step  downstairs." 

"  Mademoiselle  has  gone  out,  madame." 

"  Indeed !  how  long  ago  ?  " 

"  About  three  o'clock,  madame." 

"Who  went  with  her?" 

"  Her  maid,  Modeste." 

"  Did  Mademoiselle  say  where  she  was  going  to  ?  " 

"  No,  madame." 

"Very  well,  you  can  go." 

Even  the  imperturbable  doctor  was  rather  surprised 
at  a  girl  of  eighteen  being  permitted  so  much  freedom. 

"  It  is  most  annoying/'  said  the  Countess.  "  How- 
ever, let  us  hope  that  the  trifling  indisposition,  regard- 
ing which  I  wished  to  consult  you,  will  not  prevent  her 
marriage." 

Here  was  the  opening  that  Hortebise  desired. 

"  Is  Mademoiselle  going  to  be  married  ? "  asked  he 
with  an  air  of  respectful  curiosity. 

"  Hush  !  "  replied  Madame  de  Mussidan,  placing  her 
ringer  on  her  lips ;  "  this  is  a  profound  secret,  and  there 
is  nothing  definitely  arranged;  but  you,  as  a  doctor, 
are  a  perfect  father  confessor,  and  I  feel  that  I  can 
trust  you.  Let  me  whisper  to  you  that  it  is  quite  pos- 
sible that  Sabine  will  be  Madame  de  Breulh-Faverlay 
before  the  close  of  the  year." 

Hortebise  had  not  Mascarin's  courage;  indeed,  he 
was  frequently  terrified  at  his  confederate's  projects; 
but  having  once  given  in  his  adherence,  he  was  to  be 
relied  on,  and  did  not  hesitate  for  a  moment.  "  I  con- 
fess, madame,  that  I  heard  that  mentioned  before ;"  re- 
turned he  cautiously. 

"And,  pray,  who  was  your  informant?" 


82  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

"  Oh,  I  have  had  it  from  many  sources ;  and  let  me 
say  at  once  that  it  was  this  marriage,  and  no  mere 
chance,  that  brought  me  here  to-day/' 

Madame  de  Mussidan  liked  the  doctor  and  his  pleas- 
ant and  witty  conversation  very  much,  and  was  always 
charmed  to  see  him;  but  it  was  intolerable  that  he 
should  venture  to  interfere  in  her  daughter's  marriage. 
"  Really,  sir,  you  confer  a  great  honor  upon  the  Count 
and  myself,"  answered  she  haughtily. 

Her  severe  manner,  however,  did  not  cause  the  doc- 
tor to  lose  his  temper.  He  had  come  to  say  certain 
things  in  a  certain  manner.  He  had  learned  his  part, 
and  nothing  that  the  Countess  could  say  would  prevent 
his  playing  it. 

"  I  assure  you,  madame,"  returned  he,  "  that  when  I 
accepted  the  mission  with  which  I  am  charged,  I  only 
did  so  from  my  feelings  of  respect  to  you  and  yours." 

"  You  are  really  very  kind,"  answered  the  Countess 
superciliously. 

"  And  I  am  sure,  madame,  that  after  you  have  heard 
what  I  have  to  say,  you  will  have  even  more  reason  to 
agree  with  me."  His  manner  as  he  said  this  was  so 
peculiar,  that  the  Countess  started  as  though  she  had 
received  a  galvanic  shock.  "For  more  than  twenty- 
five  years,"  pursued  the  doctor,  "  I  have  been  the  con- 
stant depositary  of  strange  family  secrets,  and  some 
of  them  have  been  very  terrible  ones.  I  have  often 
found  myself  in  a  very  delicate  position,  but  never 
in  such  an  embarrassing  one  as  I  am  now." 

"  You  alarm  me,"  said  the  Countess,  dropping  her 
impatient  manner. 

"  If,  madame,  what  I  have  come  to  relate  to  you 
are  the  mere  ravings  of  a  lunatic,  I  will  offer  my  most 
sincere  apologies;  but  if,  on  the  contrary,  his  state- 


A   MEDICAL   ADVISER  83 

ments  are  true — and  he  has  irrefragable  proofs  in  his 
possession, — then,  madame " 

"What  then,  doctor?" 

"  Then,  madame,  I  can  only  say,  make  every  use  of 
me,  for  I  will  willingly  place  my  life  at  your  dis- 
posal." 

The  Countess  uttered  a  laugh  as  artificial  as  the  tears 
of  long-expectant  heirs.  "  Really/'  said  she,  "  your 
solemn  air  and  tones  almost  kill  me  with  laughter." 

"  She  laughs  too  heartily,  and  at  the  wrong  time. 
Mascarin  is  right,"  thought  the  doctor.  "  I  trust, 
madame,"  continued  he,  "  that  I  too  may  laugh  at  my 
own  imaginary  fears;  but  whatever  may  be  the  result, 
permit  me  to  remind  you  that  a  little  time  back  you 
said  that  a  doctor  was  a  father  confessor :  for,  like  a 
priest,  the  physician  only  hears  secrets  in  order  to 
forget  them.  He  is  also  more  fitted  to  console  and 
advise,  for,  as  his  profession  brings  him  into  contact 
with  the  frailties  and  passions  of  the  world,  he  can 
comprehend  and  excuse." 

"  And  you  must  not  forget,  doctor,  that  like  the 
priest  also,  he  preaches  very  long  sermons." 

As  she  uttered  this  sarcasm,  there  was  a  jesting  look 
upon  her  features,  but  it  elicited  no  smile  from  Horte- 
bise,  who,  as  he  proceeded,  grew  more  grave. 

"I  may  be  foolish,"  he  said;  "but  I  had  better  be 
that  than  reopen  some  old  wound." 

"Do  not  be  afraid,  doctor;  speak  out." 

"Then,  I  will  begin  by  asking  if  you  have  any  re- 
membrance of  a  young  man  in  your  own  sphere  of 
society,  who,  at  the  time  of  your  marriage,  was  well 
known  in  every  Parisian  salon.  I  speak  of  the  Marquis 
de  Croisenois." 

The  Countess  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  and  con- 


84  CAUGHT    IN   THE    NET 

tracted  her  brow,  and  pursed  up  her  lips,  as  though 
vainly  endeavoring  to  remember  the  name. 

"The  Marquis  de  Croisenois?"  repeated  she.  "It 

seems  as  if no — wait  a  moment.  No ;  I  cannot  say 

that  I  can  call  any  such  person  to  mind." 

The  doctor  felt  that  he  must  give  the  spur  to  this 
rebellious  memory. 

"Yes,  Croisenois,"  he  repeated.  "His  Christian 
name  was  George,  and  he  had  a  brother  Henry,  whom 
you  certainly  must  know,  for  this  winter  I  saw  him  at 
the  Duchess  de  Laumeuse's,  dancing  with  your  daugh- 
ter." 

"  You  are  fight ;  I  remember  the  name  now." 

Her  manner  was  indifferent  and  careless  as  she  said 
this. 

"Then  perhaps  you  also  recollect  that  some  twenty- 
three  years  ago,  George  de  Croisenois  vanished  sud- 
denly. This  disappearance  caused  a  terrible  commo- 
tion at  the  time,  and  was  one  of  the  chief  topics  of 
society/' 

"Ah!  indeed?"  mused  the  Countess. 

"He  was  last  seen  at  the  Cafe  de  Paris,  where  he 
dined  with  some  friends.  About  nine  he  got  up  to 
leave.  One  of  his  friends  proposed  to  go  with  him, 
but  he  begged  him  not  to  do  so,  saying,  '  Perhaps  I 
shall  see  you  later  on  at  the  opera,  but  do  not  count 
on  me/  The  general  impression  was  that  he  was  going 
to  some  love  tryst." 

"  His  friends  thought  that,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  for  he  was  attired  with  more  care  than  usual, 
though  lie  was  always  one  of  the  best  dressed  men  in 
Paris.  He  went  out  alone,  and  was  never  seen  again." 

"  Never  again,"  repeated  the  Countess,  a  slight  shade 
passing  across  her  brow. 


A    MEDICAL    ADVISER  85 

"Never  again,"  echoed  the  unmoved  doctor.  "At 
first  his  friends  merely  thought  his  absence  strange; 
but  at  the  end  of  a  week  they  grew  anxious/' 

"  You  go  very  much  into  details/' 

"  I  heard  them  all  at  the  time,  madame,  and  they 
were  only  brought  back  to  my  memory  this  morning. 
All  are  to  be  found  in  the  records  of  a  minute  search 
that  the  authorities  caused  to  be  made  into  the  affair. 
The  friends  of  De  Croisenois  had  commenced  the 
search;  but  when  they  found  their  efforts  useless,  they 
called  in  the  aid  of  the  police.  The  first  idea  was 
suicide :  George  might  have  gone  into  some  lonely  spot 
and  blown  out  his  brains.  There  was  no  reason  for 
this;  he  had  ample  means,  and  always  appeared  con- 
tented and  happy.  Then  it  was  believed  that  a  mur- 
der had  been  committed,  and  fresh  inquiries  were  in- 
stituted, but  nothing  could  be  discovered — nothing." 

The  Countess  affected  to  stifle  a  yawn,  and  repeated 
like  an  echo,  "Nothing." 

"  Three  months  later,  when  the  police  had  given  up 
the  matter  in  despair,  one  of  George  de  Croisenois' 
friends  received  a  letter  from  him." 

"  He  was  not  dead  then,  after  all  ? " 

Dr.  Hortebise  made  a  mental  note  of  the  tone  and 
manner  of  the  Countess,  to  consider  over  at  his  leisure. 

"  Who  can  say  ?  "  returned  he.  "  The  envelope  bore 
the  Cairo  post-mark.  In  it  George  declared  that,  bored 
with  Parisian  life,  he  was  going  to  start  on  an  explor- 
ing expedition  to  Central  Africa,  and  that  no  one  need 
be  anxious  about  him.  People  thought  this  letter  highly 
suspicious.  A  man  does  not  start  upon  such  an  ex- 
pedition as  this  without  money ;  and  it  was  conclusively 
proved  that  on  the  day  of  De  Croisenois'  disappearance 
he  had  not  more  than  a  thousand  francs  about  him, 


86  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

half  of  which  was  in  Spanish  doubloons,  won  at  whist 
before  dinner.  The  letter  was  therefore  regarded  as  a 
trick  to  turn  the  police  off  the  scent;  but  the  best 
experts  asserted  that  the  handwriting  was  George's 
own.  Two  detectives  were  at  once  despatched  to  Cairo, 
but  neither  there  nor  anywhere  on  the  road  were  any 
traces  of  the  missing  man  discovered." 

As  the  doctor  spoke,  he  kept  his  eyes  riveted  on  the 
Countess,  but  her  face  was  impassable. 

"Is  that  all?"  asked  she. 

Dr.  Hortebise  paused  a  few  moments  before  he  re- 
plied, and  then  answered  slowly, — 

"  A  man  came  to  me  yesterday,  and  asserts  that  you 
can  tell  me  what  has  become  of  George  de  Croisenois." 

A  man  could  not  have  displayed  the  nerve  evinced 
by  this  frail  and  tender  woman,  for  however  callous  he 
may  be,  some  feature  will  betray  the  torture  he  is  en- 
during; but  a  woman  can  often  turn  a  smiling  face 
upon  the  person  who  is  racking  her  very  soul.  At  the 
mere  name  of  Montlouis  the  Count  had  staggered,  as 
though  crushed  down  by  a  blow  from  a  sledge  ham- 
mer; but  at  this  accusation  of  Hortebise  the  Countess 
burst  into  a  peal  of  laughter,  apparently  perfectly  frank 
and  natural,  which  utterly  prevented  her  from  reply- 
ing. 

"  My  dear  doctor,"  said  she  at  length,  as  soon  as  she 
could  manage  to  speak,  "  your  tale  is  highly  sensational 
and  amusing,  but  I  really  think  that  you  ought  to  con- 
sult a  clairvoyant,  and  not  a  matter-of-fact  person  like 
me,  about  the  fate  of  George  de  Croisenois." 

But  the  doctor,  who  was  ready  with  his  retort,  and, 
not  at  all  disconcerted  by  the  cachinations  of  the 
Countess,  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  as  though  a  great  load 
had  been  removed  from  his  heart,  and,  with  an  air  of 


A   MEDICAL   ADVISER  87 

extreme  delight,  exclaimed,  "Thank  Heaven!  then  I 
was  deceived." 

He  uttered  these  words  with  an  affectation  of  such 
sincerity  that  the  Countess  fell  into  the  trap. 

"  Come,"  said  she,  with  a  winning  smile,  "  tell  me 
who  it  is  that  says  I  know  so  much." 

"Pooh!  pooh!"  returned  Hortebise.  "What  good 
would  that  do?  He  has  made  a  fool  of  me,  and 
caused  me  to  risk  losing  your  good  opinion.  Is  not 
that  enough  ?  To-morrow,  when  he  comes  to  my  house, 
my  servants  will  refuse  to  admit  him;  but  if  I  were 
to  do  as  my  inclinations  lead  me,  I  should  hand  him 
over  to  the  police." 

"  That  would  never  do,"  returned  the  Countess,  "  for 
that  would  change  a  mere  nothing  into  a  matter  of  im- 
portance. Tell  me  the  name  of  your  mysterious  in- 
former. Do  I  know  him?" 

"  It  is  impossible  that  you  could  do  so,  madame,  for 
he  is  far  below  you  in  the  social  grade.  You  would 
learn  nothing  from  his  name.  He  is  a  man  I  once 
helped,  and  is  called  Daddy  Tantaine." 

"  A  mere  nickname,  of  course." 

"  He  is  miserably  poor,  a  cynic,  philosopher,  but  as 
sharp  as  a  needle;  and  this  last  fact  causes  me  great 
uneasiness,  for  at  first  I  thought  that  he  had  been  sent 
to  me  by  some  one  far  above  him  in  position,  but " 

"  But,  doctor,"  interposed  the  Countess,  "  you  spoke 
to  me  of  proofs,  of  threats,  of  certain  mysterious  per- 
sons." 

"  I  simply  repeated  Daddy  Tantaine's  words.  The 
old  idiot  said  to  me,  (  Madame  de  Mussidan  knows  all 
about  the  fate  of  the  Marquis,  and  this  is  clearly 
proved  by  letters  that  she  has  received  from  him,  as 
well  as  from  the  Duke  de  Champdoce/  " 


88  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

This  time  the  arrow  went  home.  She  grew  deadly  pale, 
and  started  to  her  feet  with  her  eyes  dilated  with  horror. 

"My  letters!"  exclaimed  she  hoarsely. 

Hortebise  appeared  utterly  overwhelmed  by  this  dis- 
play of  consternation^  of  which  he  was  the  innocent 
cause. 

"  Your  letters,  madame,"  replied  he  with  evident  hes- 
itation, "this  double-dyed  scoundrel  declares  he  has  in 
his  possession." 

With  a  cry  like  that  of  a  wounded  lioness,  the 
Countess,  taking  no  notice  of  the  doctor's  presence, 
rushed  from  the  room.  Her  rapid  footfall  could  be 
heard  on  the  stairs,  and  the  rustle  of  her  silken  skirts 
against  the  banisters.  As  soon  as  he  was  left  alone, 
the  doctor  rose  from  his  seat  with  a  cynical  smile  upon 
his  face. 

"You  may  search,"  mused  he,  "but  you  will  find 
that  the  birds  have  flown."  He  walked  up  to  one  of 
the  windows,  and  drummed  on  the  glass  with  his 
fingers.  "People  say,"  remarked  he,  "that  Mascarin 
never  makes  a  mistake.  One  cannot  help  admiring  his 
diabolical  sagacity  and  unfailing  logic.  From  the  most 
trivial  event  he  forges  a  long  chain  of  evidence,  as  the 
botanist  is  able,  as  he  picks  up  a  withered  leaf,  to  de- 
scribe in  detail  the  tree  it  came  from.  A  pity,  almost, 
that  he  did  not  turn  his  talents  to  some  nobler  end; 
but  no;  he  is  now  upstairs  putting  the  Count  on  the 
rack,  while  I  am  inflicting  tortures  on  the  Countess. 
What  a  shameful  business  we  are  carrying  on!  There 
are  moments  when  I  think  that  I  have  paid  dearly  for 
my  life  of  luxury,  for  I  know  well,"  he  added,  half 
consciously  fingering  his  locket,  "  that  some  day  we 
shall  meet  some  one  stronger  than  ourselves,  and  then 
the  inevitable  will  ensue." 


A   MEDICAL   ADVISER  89 

The  reappearance  of  the  Countess  broke  the  chain  of 
his  thoughts.  Her  hair  was  disturbed,  her  eyes  had  a 
wild  look  in  them,  and  everything  about  her  betrayed 
the  state  of  agitation  she  was  in. 

"  Robbed !  robbed ! "  cried  she,  as  she  entered  the 
room.  Her  excitement  was  so  extreme  that  she  spoke 
aloud,  forgetting  that  the  door  was  open,  and  that  the 
lackey  in  the  ante-room  could  hear  all  she  said.  Luck- 
ily Hortebise  did  not  lose  his  presence  of  mind,  and, 
with  the  ease  of  a  leading  actor  repairing  the  error  of 
a  subordinate,  he  closed  the  door. 

"  What  have  you  lost  ? "  asked  he. 

"  My  letters ;  they  are  all  gone." 

She  staggered  on  to  a  couch,  and  in  broken  accents 
went  on.  "  And  yet  these  letters  were  in  an  iron 
casket  closed  by  a  secret  spring;  that  casket  was  in  a 
drawer,  the  key  of  which  never  leaves  me." 

"  Good  heavens ! "  exclaimed  Hortebise  in  affected 
tones,  "  then  Tantaine  spoke  the  truth." 

"  He  did,"  answered  the  Countess  hoarsely.  "  Yes," 
she  continued,  "I  am  the  bondslave  to  people  whose 
names  I  do  not  even  know,  who  can  control  my  every 
movement  and  action." 

She  hid  her  face  in  her  hands  as  though  her  pride 
sought  to  conceal  her  despair. 

"  Are  these  letters,  then,  so  terribly  compromising  ?  " 
asked  the  doctor. 

"  I  am  utterly  lost,"  cried  she.  "  In  my  younger 
days  I  had  no  experience ;  I  only  thought  of  vengeance, 
and  lately  the  weapons  I  forged  myself  have  been 
turned  against  me.  I  dug  a  pitfall  for  my  adversaries 
and  have  fallen  into  it  myself." 

Hortebise  did  not  attempt  to  stay  the  torrent  of  her 
words,  for  the  Countess  was  in  one  of  those  moods  of 


90  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

utter  despair  when  the  inner  feelings  of  the  soul  are 
made  manifest,  as  during  a  violent  tempest  the  weeds 
of  ocean  are  hurled  up  to  the  surface  of  the  troubled 
waters. 

"  I  would  sooner  be  lying  in  my  grave  a  thousand 
times/'  wailed  she,  "  than  see  these  letters  in  my  hus- 
band's hands.  Poor  Octave!  have  I  not  caused  him 
sufficient  annoyance  already  without  this  crowning  sor- 
row? Well,  Dr.  Hortebise,  I  am  menaced  with  the 
production  of  these  letters,  and  they  will  be  handed  to 
my  husband  unless  I  agree  to  certain  terms.  What  are 
they?  Of  course  money  is  required;  tell  me  to  what 
amount." 

The  doctor  shook  his  head. 

"  Not  money  ?  "  cried  the  Countess ;  "  what,  then, 
do  they  require?  Speak,  and  do  not  torture  me 
more/' 

Sometimes  Hortebise  confessed  to  Mascarin  that, 
putting  his  interests  on  one  side,  he  pitied  his  victims; 
but  he  showed  no  sign  of  this  feeling,  and  went  on, — 

"The  value  of  what  they  require,  madame,  is  best 
estimated  by  yourself." 

"Tell  me  what  it  is;  I  can  bear  anything  now." 

"These  compromising  letters  will  be  placed  in  your 
hands  upon  the  day  on  which  your  daughter  marries 
Henry  de  Croisenois,  the  brother  of  George." 

Madame  de  Mussidan's  astonishment  was  so  great 
that  she  stood  as  though  petrified  into  a  statue. 

"  I  am  commissioned  to  inform  you,  madame,  that 
every  delay  necessary  for  altering  any  arrangements 
that  may  exist  will  be  accorded  you ;  but,  remember,  if 
your  daughter  marries  any  one  else  than  Henry  de 
Croisenois,  the  letters  will  be  at  once  placed  in  your 
husband's  hands." 


A   MEDICAL   ADVISER  91 

As  he  spoke  the  doctor  watched  her  narrowly.  The 
Countess  crossed  the  room,  faint  and  dizzy,  and  rested 
her  head  on  the  mantelpiece. 

"  And  that  is  all  ?  "  asked  she.  "  What  you  ask  me 
to  do  is  utterly  impossible :  and  perhaps  it  is  for  the 
best,  for  I  shall  have  no  long  agony  of  suspense  to  en- 
dure. Go,  doctor,  and  tell  the  villain  who  holds  my 
letters  that  he  can  take  them  to  the  Count  at  once." 

The  Countess  spoke  in  such  a  decided  tone  that 
Hortebise  was  a  little  puzzled. 

"Can  it  be  true,"  she  continued,  "that  scoundrels 
exist  in  our  country  who  are  viler  than  the  most  cow- 
ardly murderers, — men  who  trade  in  the  shameful  se- 
crets that  they  have  learned,  and  batten  upon  the 
money  they  earn  by  their  odious  trade?  I  heard  of 
such  creatures  before,  but  declined  to  believe  it;  for  I 
said  to  myself  that  such  an  idea  only  existed  in  the 
unhealthy  imaginations  of  novel  writers.  It  seems, 
however,  that  I  was  in  error;  but  do  not  let  these  vil- 
lains rejoice  too  soon;  they  will  reap  but  a  scanty  har- 
vest. There  is  one  asylum  left  for  me  where  they 
cannot  molest  me." 

"  Ah,  madame ! "  exclaimed  the  doctor  in  imploring 
accents ;  but  she  paid  no  attention  to  his  remonstrances, 
and  went  on  with  increasing  violence, — 

"  Do  the  miserable  wretches  think  that  I  fear  death  ? 
For  years  I  have  prayed  for  it  as  a  final  mercy  from 
the  heaven  I  have  so  deeply  offended.  I  long  for  the 
quiet  of  the  sepulchre.  You  are  surprised  at  hearing 
one  like  me  speak  in  this  way, — one  who  has  all  her 
life  been  admired  and  flattered, — I,  Diana  de  Laure- 
bourg,  Countess  de  Mussidan.  Even  in  the  hours  of 
my  greatest  triumphs  my  soul  shuddered  at  the  thought 
of  the  grim  spectre  hidden  away  in  the  past;  and  I 


92  CAUGHT    IN    THE   NET* 

wished  that  death  would  come  and  relieve  my  suffer- 
ings. My  eccentricities  have  often  surprised  my  friends, 
who  asked  if  sometimes  I  were  not  a  little  mad.  Mad  ? 
Yes,  I  am  mad !  They  do  not  know  that  I  seek  oblivion 
in  excitement,  and  that  I  dare  not  be  alone.  But  I 
have  learned  by  this  time  that  I  must  stifle  the  voice  of 
conscience." 

She  spoke  like  a  woman  utterly  bereft  of  hope,  who 
had  resolved  on  the  final  sacrifice.  Her  clear  voice 
rang  through  the  room,  and  Hortebise  turned  pale  as 
he  heard  the  footsteps  of  the  servants  pacing  to  and 
fro  outside  the  door,  as  they  made  preparations  for 
dinner. 

"All  my  life  has  been  one  continual  struggle,"  re- 
sumed she, — "a  struggle  which  has  cost  me  sore;  but 
now  all  is  over,  and  to-night,  for  the  first  time  for 
many  years,  Diana  de  Mussidan  will  sleep  a  calm  and 
untroubled  sleep." 

The  excitement  of  the  Countess  had  risen  to  so  high 
a  pitch  that  the  doctor  asked  himself  how  he  could 
allay  a  tempest  which  he  had  not  foreseen ;  for  her  loud 
tones  would  certainly  alarm  the  servants,  who  would 
hasten  to  acquaint  the  Count,  who  was  himself  stretched 
upon  the  rack;  then  the  entire  plot  would  be  laid  bare, 
and  all  would  be  lost. 

Madame  de  Mussidan  was  about  to  rush  from  the 
room,  when  the  doctor,  perceiving  that  he  must  act 
decisively,  seized  her  by  both  wrists,  and,  almost  by 
force,  caused  her  to  resume  her  seat. 

"  In  Heaven's  name,  madame,"  he  whispered,  "  for 
your  daughter's  sake,  listen  to  me.  Do  not  throw  up 
all ;  am  not  I  here  ready  to  do  your  bidding,  whatever 
it  may  be?  Rely  upon  me, — rely  upon  the  knowledge 
of  a  man  of  the  world,  and  of  one  who  still  possesses 


A   MEDICAL   ADVISER  93 

some  portion  of  what  is  called  heart.  Cannot  we  form 
an  alliance  to  ward  off  this  attack  ?  " 

The  doctor  continued  in  this  strain,  endeavoring  to 
reassure  the  Countess  as  much  as  he  had  previously 
endeavored  to  terrify  her,  and  soon  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  seeing  his  efforts  crowned  with  success;  for 
Madame  de  Mussidan  listened  to  his  flow  of  language, 
hardly  comprehending  its  import,  but  feeling  calmer 
as  he  went  on;  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  had 
persuaded  her  to  look  the  situation  boldly  in  the  face. 
Then  Hortebise  breathed  more  freely,  and,  wiping  the 
perspiration  from  his  brow,  felt  that  he  had  gained 
the  victory. 

"  It  is  a  nefarious  plot,"  said  the  Countess. 

"  So  it  is,  madame ;  but  the  facts  remain.  Only 
tell  me  one  thing,  have  you  any  special  objection 
to  M.  de  Croisenois  paying  his  addresses  to  your 
daughter  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  He  comes  from  a  good  family,  is  well  educated, 
handsome,  popular,  and  only  thirty-four.  If  you  re~ 
member,  George  was  his  senior  by  fifteen  years.  Why, 
then,  is  not  the  marriage  a  suitable  one?  Certainly, 
he  has  led  rather  a  fast  life;  but  what  young  man  is 
immaculate?  They  say  that  he  is  deeply  in  debt;  but 
then  your  daughter  has  enough  for  both.  Besides,  his 
brother  left  behind  him  a  considerable  fortune,  not  far 
short  of  two  millions,  I  believe ;  and  to  this,  of  course, 
Henry  will  eventually  succeed." 

Madame  de  Mussidan  was  too  overwhelmed  by  what 
she  had  already  gone  through  to  offer  any  further  ex- 
position of  her  feelings  on  the  subject. 

"All  this  is  very  well,"  answered  she;  "but  the 
Count  has  decided  that  Sabine  is  to  become  the  wife  of 


94  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay,  and  I  have  no  voice  in  the 
matter." 

"  But  if  you  exerted  your  influence  ?  " 

The  Countess  shook  her  head.  "Once  on  a  time," 
said  she  sadly,  "  I  reigned  supreme  over  Octave's  heart ; 
I  was  the  leading  spirit  of  his  existence.  Then  he 
loved  me;  but  I  was  insensible  to  the  depths  of  his 
affection,  and  wore  out  a  love  that  would  have  lasted 
as  long  as  life  itself.  Yes,  in  my  folly  I  slew  it,  and 

now "  She  paused  for  a  moment  as  if  to  collect 

her  ideas,  and  then  added  more  slowly :  "  and  now  our 
lives  are  separate  ones.  I  do  not  complain;  it  is  all 
my  own  fault ;  he  is  just  and  generous." 

"  But  surely  you  can  make  the  effort  ?  " 

"  But  suppose  Sabine  loves  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay?" 

"But,  madame,  a  mother  can  always  influence  her 
daughter." 

The  Countess  seized  the  doctor's  hand,  and  grasped 
it  so  tightly  that  he  could  hardly  bear  the  pain. 

"  I  must,"  said  she  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  "  divulge  to 
you  the  whole  extent  of  my  unhappiness.  I  am  es- 
tranged from  my  husband,  and  my  daughter  dislikes 
and  despises  me.  Some  people  think  that  life  can  be 
divided  into  two  portions,  one  consecrated  to  pleasure 
and  excitement,  and  the  other  to  domestic  peace  and 
happiness;  but  the  idea  is  a  false  one.  As  youth  has 
been,  so  will  be  age,  either  a  reward  or  an  expia- 
tion." 

Dr.  Hortebise  did  not  care  to  follow  this  train  of 
argument — for  the  Count  might  enter  at  any  moment, 
or  a  servant  might  come  in  to  announce  dinner — and 
only  sought  to  soothe  the  excited  feelings  of  Madame 
de  Mussidan,  and  to  prove  to  her  that  she  was  fright- 
ened by  shadows,  and  that  in  reality  she  was  not 


A   MEDICAL   ADVISER  95 

estranged  from  her  husband,  nor  did  her  daughter  dis- 
like her;  and  finally  a  ray  of  hope  illuminated  the  sad- 
dened heart  of  the  unfortunate  lady. 

"  Ah,  doctor !  "  said  she,  "  it  is  only  misfortune  that 
teaches  us  to  know  our  true  friends." 

The  Countess,  like  her  husband,  had  now  laid  down 
her  arms;  she  had  made  a  longer  fight  of  it,  but  in 
both  cases  the  result  had  been  the  same.  She  prom- 
ised that  she  would  commence  operations  the  next 
day,  and  do  her  utmost  to  break  off  the  present  en- 
gagement. 

Dr.  Hortebise  was  well  satisfied  with  his  morning's 
work,  and  promised  the  unhappy  lady  that  he  would 
do  his  best  to  keep  that  scoundrel,  Tantaine,  quiet,  and 
would  bring  her  news  of  what  was  passing  from  day  to 
day. 

Hortebise  then  took  his  leave,  quite  worn  out  with 
the  severe  conflict  he  had  waged  during  his  two 
hours'  interview  with  the  Countess.  In  spite  of  the 
extreme  cold,  the  air  outside  seemed  to  refresh  him 
considerably,  and  he  inhaled  it  with  the  happy  feeling 
that  he  had  performed  his  duty  in  a  manner  worthy 
of  all  praise.  He  walked  up  the  Rue  de  Faubourg  Saint 
Honore,  and  again  entered  the  cafe  where  he  and  his 
worthy  confederate  had  agreed  to  meet.  Mascarin  was 
there,  an  untasted  cutlet  before  him,  and  his  face  hid- 
den by  a  newspaper  which  his  anxiety  would  not  per- 
mit him  to  peruse.  His  suspense  was  terrible.  Had 
Hortebise  failed?  had  he  encountered  one  of  those  un- 
foreseen obstacles  which,  like  a  minute  grain  of  sand, 
utterly  hinders  the  working  of  a  piece  of  delicate  ma- 
chinery ? 

"  Well,  what  news  ?  "  said  he  eagerly,  as  soon  as  h<* 
caught  sight  of  the  doctor. 


96  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  Success,  perfect  success ! "  said  Hortebise  gayly. 
"But/'  added  he,  as  he  sank  exhausted  upon  a  seat. 
"  the  battle  has  been  a  hard  one." 


CHAPTER   VII.. 

IN   THE   STUDIO. 

STAGGERING  like  a  drunken  man,  Paul  Violaine  de- 
scended the  stairs  when  his  interview  with  Mascarin 
had  been  concluded.  The  sudden  and  unexpected  good 
fortune  which  had  fallen  so  opportunely  at  his  feet  had 
for  the  moment  absolutely  stunned  him.  He  was  now 
removed  from  a  position  which  had  caused  him  to  gaze 
with  longing  upon  the  still  waters  of  the  Seine,  to  one 
of  comparative  affluence.  "  Mascarin/'  said  he  to  him- 
self, "has  offered  me  an  appointment  bringing  in 
twelve  thousand  francs  per  annum,  and  proposed  to 
give  me  the  first  month's  salary  in  advance." 

Certainly  it  was  enough  to  bewilder  any  man,  and 
Paul  was  utterly  dazed.  He  went  over  all  the  events 
that  had  occurred  during  the  day — the  sudden  appear- 
ance of  old  Tantaine,  with  his  loan  of  five  hundred 
francs,  and  the  strange  man  who  knew  the  whole  his- 
tory of  his  life,  and  who,  without  making  any  condi- 
tions, had  offered  him  a  valuable  situation.  Paul  was 
in  no  particular  hurry  to  get  back  to  the  Hotel  de 
Perou,  for  he  said  to  himself  that  Rose  could  wait.  A 
feeling  of  restlessness  had  seized  upon  him.  He  wanted 
to  squander  money,  and  to  have  the  sympathy  of  some 
companions, — but  where  should  he  go,  for  he  had  no 
friends?  Searching  the  records  of  his  memory,  he  *-e- 
membered  that,  when  poverty  had  first  overtaken  him, 
he  had  borrowed  twenty  francs  from  a  young  fellow 


IN   THE    STUDIO  97 

of  his  own  age,  named  Andre.  Some  gold  coins  still 
jingled  in  his  pocket,  and  he  could  have  a  thousand 
francs  for  the  asking.  Would  it  not  add  to  his  impor- 
tance if  he  were  to  go  and  pay  this  debt  ?  Unluckily  his 
creditor  lived  a  long  distance  off  in  the  Rue  de  la 
Tour  d'Auvergne.  He,  however,  hailed  a  passing  cab, 
and  was  driven  to  Andre's  address.  This  young  man 
was  only  a  casual  acquaintance,  whom  Paul  had  picked 
up  one  day  in  a  small  wine-shop  to  which  he  used  to 
take  Rose  when  he  first  arrived  in  Paris.  Andre,  with 
whose  other  name  Paul  was  unacquainted,  was  an 
artist,  and,  in  addition,  was  an  ornamental  sculptor,  and 
executed  those  wonderful  decorations  on  the  outside  of 
houses  in  which  builders  delight.  The  trade  is  not  a 
pleasant  one,  for  it  necessitates  working  at  dizzy 
heights,  on  scaffolds  that  vibrate  with  every  footstep, 
and  exposes  you  to  the  heat  of  summer  and  the  frosts 
of  winter.  The  business,  however,  is  well  paid,  and 
Andre  got  a  good  price  for  his  stone  figures  and 
wreaths.  But  all  the  money  he  earned  went  in  the 
study  of  the  painter's  art,  which  was  the  secret  desire 
of  his  soul.  He  had  taken  a  studio,  and  twice  his 
pictures  had  been  exhibited  at  the  Salon,  and  orders 
began  to  come  in.  Many  of  his  brother  artists  pre- 
dicted a  glorious  future  for  him.  When  the  cab  stopped, 
Paul  threw  the  fare  to  the  driver,  and  asked  the  clean- 
looking  portress,  who  was  polishing  the  brasswork  on 
the  door,  if  M.  Andre  was  at  home. 

"  He  is,  sir,"  replied  the  old  woman,  adding,  with 
much  volubility,  "and  you  are  likely  to  find  him  in, 
for  he  has  so  much  work;  but  he  is  such  a  good  and 
quiet  young  man,  and  so  regular  in  his  habits !  I  don't 
believe  he  owes  a  penny  in  the  world ;  and  as  for  drink, 
why  he  is  a  perfect  Anchorite.  Then  he  has  very  few 


98  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

acquaintances, — one  young  lady,  whose  face  for  a 
month  past  I  have  tried  to  see,  but  failed,  because  she 
wears  a  veil,  comes  to  see  him,  accompanied  by  her 
maid." 

"  Good  heavens,  woman ! "  cried  Paul  impatiently, 
"  will  you  tell  me  where  to  find  M.  Andre  ?  " 

"  Fourth  floor,  first  door  to  the  right,"  answered  the 
portress,  angry  at  being  interrupted;  and  as  Paul  ran 
up  the  stairs,  she  muttered,  "  A  young  chap  with  no 
manners,  taking  the  words  out  of  a  body's  mouth  like 
that!  Next  time  he  comes,  Til  serve  him  out  some- 
how/' 

Paul  found  the  door,  with  a  card  with  the  word 
"  Andre  "  marked  upon  it  nailed  up,  and  rapped  on  the 
panel.  He  heard  the  sound  of  a  piece  of  furniture 
being  moved,  and  the  jingle  of  rings  being  passed  along 
a  rod ;  then  a  clear,  youthful  voice  answered,  "  Come 
in!" 

Paul  entered,  and  found  himself  in  a  large,  airy  room, 
lighted  by  a  skylight,  and  exquisitely  clean  and  orderly. 
Sketches  and  drawings  were  suspended  on  the  walls; 
there  was  a  handsome  carpet  from  Tunis,  and  a  com- 
fortable lounge;  a  mirror  in  a  carved  frame,  which 
would  have  gladdened  the  heart  of  a  connoisseur,  stood 
upon  the  mantelpiece.  An  easel  with  a  picture  upon 
it,  covered  with  a  green  baize  curtain,  stood  in  one 
corner.  The  young  painter  was  in  the  centre  of  his 
studio,  brush  and  palette  in  hand.  He  was  a  dark, 
handsome  young  man,  well  built  and  proportioned,  with 
close-cut  hair,  and  a  curling  beard  flowing  down  over 
his  chest.  His  face  was  full  of  expression,  and  the 
energy  and  vigor  imprinted  upon  it  formed  a  marked 
contrast  to  the  appearance  of  Mascarin's  protege.  Paul 
noticed  that  he  did  not  wear  the  usual  painter's  blouse, 


IN  THE   STUDIO  99 

but  was  carefully  dressed  in  the  prevailing  fashion.  As 
soon  as  he  recognized  Paul,  Andre  came  forward  with 
extended  hand.  "  Ah,"  said  he,  "  I  am  pleased  to  see 
you,  for  I  often  wondered  what  had  become  of  you." 

Paul  was  offended  at  this  familiar  greeting.  "  I 
have  had  many  worries  and  disappointments,"  said  he. 

"  And  Rose,"  said  Andre,  "  how  is  she — as  pretty  as 
ever,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes,"  answered  Paul  negligently;  "but  you 
must  forgive  me  for  having  vanished  so  suddenly.  I 
have  come  to  repay  your  loan,  with  many  thanks." 

"  Pshaw  !  "  returned  the  painter,  "  I  never  thought 
of  the  matter  again ;  pray,  do  not  inconvenience  your- 
self." 

Again  Paul  felt  annoyed,  for  he  fancied  that  under 
the  cloak  of  assumed  generosity  the  painter  meant  to 
humiliate  him ;  and  the  opportunity  of  airing  his  newly- 
found  grandeur  occurred  to  him. 

"  It  was  a  convenience  to  me,  certainly,"  said  he, 
"but  I  am  all  right  now,  having  a  salary  of  twelve 
thousand  francs." 

He  thought  that  the  artist  would  be  dazzled,  and 
that  the  mention  of  this  sum  would  draw  from  him 
some  exclamations  of  surprise  and  envy.  Andre,  how- 
ever, made  no  reply,  and  Paul  was  obliged  to  wind 
up  with  the  lame  conclusion,  "  And  at  my  age  that 
is  not  so  bad." 

"  I  should  call  it  superb.  Should  I  be  indiscreet  in 
asking  what  you  are  doing?" 

The  question  was  a  most  natural  one,  but  Paul  could 
not  reply  to  it,  as  he  was  entirely  ignorant  as  to  what 
his  employment  was  to  be,  and  he  felt  as  angry  as  if 
the  painter  had  wantonly  insulted  him. 

"  I  work  for  it/'  said  he,  drawing  himself  up  with 


100  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

such  a  strange  expression  of  voice  and  feature  that 
Andre  could  not  fail  to  notice  it. 

"I  work  too,"  remarked  he;  "I  am  never  idle." 

"But  I  have  to  work  very  hard,"  returned  Paul, 
"  for  I  have  not,  like  you,  a  friend  or  protector  to  in- 
terest himself  in  me." 

Paul,  who  had  not  a  particle  of  gratitude  in  his 
disposition,  had  entirely  forgotten  Mascarin. 

The  artist  was  much  amused  by  this  speech.  "  And 
where  do  you  think  that  a  foundling,  as  I  am,  would 
find  a  protector  ?  " 

Paul  opened  his  eyes.  "What,"  said  he,  "are  you 
one  of  those?" 

"  I  am ;  I  make  no  secret  of  it,  hoping  that  there  is 
no  occasion  for  me  to  feel  shame,  though  there  may  be 
for  grief.  All  my  friends  know  this;  and  I  am  sur- 
prised that  you  are  not  aware  that  I  am  simply  a 
foundling  from  the  Hopital  de  Vendome.  Up  to  twelve 
years  of  age  I  was  perfectly  happy,  and  the  masters 
praised  me  for  the  knack  I  had  of  acquiring  knowledge. 
I  used  to  work  in  the  garden  by  day,  and  in  the  evening 
I  wasted  reams  of  paper ;  for  I  had  made  up  my  mind 
to  be  an  artist.  But  nothing  goes  easily  in  this  world, 
and  one  day  the  lady  superintendent  conceived  the  idea 
of  apprenticing  me  to  a  tanner." 

Paul,  who  had  taken  a  seat  on  the  divan  in  order 
to  listen,  here  commenced  making  a  cigarette;  but 
Andre  stopped  him.  "  Excuse  me ;  but  will  you  oblige 
me  by  not  smoking?" 

Paul  tossed  the  cigarette  aside,  though  he  was  a  lit- 
tle surprised,  as  the  painter  was  an  inveterate  smoker. 
"All  right,"  said  he,  "but  continue  your  story." 

"  I  will ;  it  is  a  long  one.  I  hated  the  tanner's  busi- 
ness from  the  very  beginning.  Almost  the  first  day 


IN   THE   STUDIO  101 

an  awkward  workman  scalded  me  so  severely  that  the 
traces  still  remain."  As  he  spoke  he  rolled  up  his 
shirt  sleeve,  and  exhibited  a  scar  that  covered  nearly 
all  one  side  of  his  arm.  "  Horrified  at  such  a  com- 
mencement, I  entreated  the  lady  superintendent,  a  hide- 
ous old  woman  in  spectacles,  to  apprentice  me  to  some 
other  trade,  but  she  sternly  refused.  She  had  made 
up  her  mind  that  I  should  be  a  tanner." 

"  That  was  nasty  of  her/'  remarked  Paul. 

"  It  was,  indeed ;  but  from  that  day  I  made  up  my 
mind,  and  I  determined  to  run  away  as  soon  as  I  could 
get  a  little  money  together.  I  therefore  stuck  steadily 
to  the  business,  and  by  the  end  of  the  year,  by  means 
of  the  strictest  economy,  I  found  myself  master  of 
thirty  francs.  This,  I  thought,  would  do,  and,  with  a 
bundle  containing  a  change  of  linen,  I  started  on  foot 
for  Paris.  I  was  only  thirteen,  but  I  had  been  gifted 
by  Providence  with  plenty  of  that  strong  will  called 
by  many  obstinacy.  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  be  a 
painter." 

"  And  you  kept  your  vow  ?  " 

"  But  with  the  greatest  difficulty.  Ah !  I  can  close 
my  eyes  and  see  the  place  where  I  slept  the  first  night 
I  came  to  Paris.  I  was  so  exhausted  that  I  did  not 
awake  for  twelve  hours.  I  ordered  a  good  breakfast; 
and  finding  funds  at  a  very  low  ebb,  I  started  ii»  search 
of  work." 

Paul  smiled.  He,  too,  remembered  his  first  day  in 
Paris.  He  was  twenty-two  years  of  age,  and  h^d  forty 
francs  in  his  pocket 

"  I  wanted  to  make  money — for  I  felt  I  needed  it — 
to  enable  me  to  pursue  my  studies.  A  stout  man  was 
seated  near  me  at  breakfast,  and  to  him  I  addressed 
mvself. 


102  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"'Look  here/  said  I,  'I  am  thirteen,  and  much 
stronger  than  I  look.  I  can  read  and  write.  Tell  me 
how  I  can  earn  a  living.' 

"He  looked  steadily  at  me,  and  in  a  rough  voice 
answered,  '  Go  to  the  market  to-morrow  morning,  and 
try  if  one  of  the  master  masons,  who  are  on  the  look- 
out for  hands,  will  employ  you/  " 

"And  you  went?" 

"  I  did ;  and  was  eagerly  watching  the  head  masons, 
when  I  perceived  my  stout  friend  coming  toward  me. 

" '  I  like  the  looks  of  you,  my  lad/  he  said ; '  I  am  an 
ornamental  sculptor.  Do  you  care  to  learn  my  trade  ? ' 

"When  I  heard  this  proposal,  it  seemed  as  if  Para- 
dise was  opening  before  me,  and  I  agreed  with  enthusi- 
asm." 

"And  how  about  your  painting?" 

"That  came  later  on.  I  worked  hard  at  it  in  all 
my  hours  of  leisure.  I  attended  the  evening  schools, 
and  worked  steadily  at  my  art  and  other  branches  of 
education.  It  was  a  very  long  time  before  I  ventured 
to  indulge  in  a  glass  of  beer.  '  No,  no,  Andre/  I  would 
say  to  myself,  '  beer  costs  six  sous ;  lay  the  money  by/ 
Finally,  when  I  was  earning  from  eighty  to  a  hundred 
francs  a  week,  I  was  able  to  give  more  time  to  the 
brush." 

The  recital  of  this  life  of  toil  and  self-denial,  so  dif- 
ferent from  his  own  selfish  and  idle  career,  was  inex- 
pressibly mortifying  to  Paul;  but  he  felt  that  he  was 
called  upon  to  say  something. 

"When  one  has  talents  like  yours,"  said  he,  "suc- 
cess follows  as  a  matter  of  course." 

He  rose  to  his  feet,  and  affected  to  examine  the 
sketches  on  the  walls,  though  his  attention  was  attracted 
to  the  covered  picture  on  the  easel.  He  remembered 


IN   THE    STUDIO  103 

what  the  garrulous  old  portress  had  said  about  the 
veiled  lady  who  sometimes  visited  the  painter,  and  that 
there  had  been  some  delay  in  admitting  him  when  he 
first  knocked.  Then  he  considered,  for  whom  had  the 
painter  dressed  himself  with  such  care?  and  why  had 
he  requested  him  not  to  smoke?  From  all  these  facts 
Paul  came  to  the  conclusion  that  Andre  was  expecting 
the  lady's  visit,  and  that  the  veiled  picture  was  her  por- 
trait. He  therefore  determined  to  see  it;  and  with 
this  end  in  view,  he  walked  round  the  studio,  admiring 
all  the  paintings  on  the  walls,  manoeuvring  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  imperceptibly  draw  nearer  to  the 
easel. 

"  And  this,"  said  he,  suddenly  extending  his  hand 
toward  the  cover,  "  is,  I  presume,  the  gem  of  your 
studio?" 

But  Andre  was  by  no  means  dull,  and  had  divined 
Paul's  intention,  and  grasped  the  young  man's  out- 
stretched hand  just  as  it  touched  the  curtain. 

"  If  I  veil  this  picture,"  said  he,  "  it  is  because  I  do 
not  wish  it  to  be  seen." 

"  Excuse  me,"  answered  Paul,  trying  to  pass  over 
the  matter  as  a  jest,  though  in  reality  he  was  boiling 
over  with  rage  at  the  manner  and  tone  of  the  painter, 
and  considered  his  caution  utterly  ridiculous. 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  I  will  lengthen 
out  my  visit,  and  have  a  glimpse  of  the  original  instead 
of  her  picture;"  and,  with  this  amiable  resolution,  he 
sat  down  by  the  artist's  table,  and  commenced  an  ap- 
parently interminable  story,  resolved  not  to  attend  to 
any  hints  his  friend  might  throw  out,  who  was  glancing 
at  the  clock  with  the  utmost  anxiety,  comparing  it  every 
now  and  then  with  his  watch. 

As  Paul  talked  on,  he  saw  close  to  him  on  the  table 


104  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

the  photograph  of  a  young  lady,  and,  taking  advantage 
of  the  artist's  preoccupation,  looked  at  it. 

"  Pretty,  very  pretty !  "  remarked  he. 

At  these  words  the  painter  flushed  crimson,  and 
snatching  away  the  photograph  with  some  little  de- 
gree of  violence,  thrust  it  between  the  leaves  of  a  book. 

Andre  was  so  evidently  in  a  passion,  that  Paul  rose 
to  his  feet,  and  for  a  second  or  two  the  men  looked 
into  each  other's  eyes  as  two  adversaries  do  when 
about  to  engage  in  a  mortal  duel.  They  knew  but  lit- 
tle of  each  other,  and  the  same  chance  which  had 
brought  them  together  might  separate  them  again  at 
any  moment,  but  each  felt  that  the  other  exercised  some 
influence  over  his  life. 

Andre  was  the  first  to  recover  himself. 

"  You  must  excuse  me ;  but  I  was  wrong  to  leave  so 
precious  an  article  about." 

Paul  bowed  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  accepts  an 
apology  which  he  considers  his  due;  and  Andre  went 
on,— 

"  I  very  rarely  receive  any  one  except  my  friends ; 
but  to-day  I  have  broken  through  my  rule/' 

Paul  interrupted  him  with  a  magniloquent  wave  of 
the  hand. 

"  Believe  me,  sir,"  said  he,  in  a  voice  which  he  en- 
deavored to  render  cutting  and  sarcastic,  "had  it  not 
been  for  the  imperative  duty  I  before  alluded  to,  I 
should  not  have  intruded." 

And  with  these  words  he  left  the  room,  slamming  the 
door  behind  him. 

"The  deuce  take  the  impudent  fool!"  muttered 
Andre.  "I  was  strongly  tempted  to  pitch  him  out  of 
the  window." 

Paul  was  in  a  furious  rage  for  having  visited  the 


IN   THE   STUDIO  105 

studio  with  the  kindly  desire  of  humiliating  the  painter. 
He  could  not  but  feel  that  the  tables  had  been  turned 
upon  himself. 

"  He  shall  not  have  it  all  his  own  way,"  muttered  he ; 
"  for  I  will  see  the  lady/''  and  not  reflecting  on  the 
meanness  of  his  conduct,  he  crossed  the  street,  and  took 
up  a  position  from  which  he  could  obtain  a  good  view 
of  the  house  where  Andre  resided.  It  was  snowing; 
but  Paul  disregarded  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  in 
his  eagerness  to  act  the  spy. 

He  had  waited  for  fully  half  an  hour,  when  a  cab 
drove  up.  Two  women  alighted  from  it.  The  one  was 
eminently  aristocratic  in  appearance,  while  the  other 
looked  like  a  respectable  servant.  Paul  drew  closer; 
and,  in  spite  of  a  thick  veil,  recognized  the  features  he 
had  seen  in  the  photograph. 

"  Ah !  "  said  he,  "  after  all,  Rose  is  more  to  my  taste, 
and  I  will  get  back  to  her.  We  will  pay  up  Loupins, 
and  get  out  of  his  horrible  den." 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

MADEMOISELLE  DE   MUSSIDAN. 

PAUL  had  not  been  the  only  watcher ;  for  at  the  sound 
of  the  carriage  wheels  the  ancient  portress  took  up  her 
position  in  the  doorway,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  face 
of  the  young  lady.  When  the  two  women  had  ascended 
the  stairs,  a  sudden  inspiration  seized  her,  and  she  went 
out  and  spoke  to  the  cabman. 

"  Nasty  night,"  remarked  she ;  "  I  don't  envy  you  in 
such  weather  as  this/' 


106  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"You  may  well  say  that/'  replied  the  driver;  "my 
feet  are  like  lumps  of  ice." 

"  Have  you  come  far  ?  " 

"Rather;  I  picked  them  up  in  the  Champs  Elysees, 
near  the  Avenue  de  Matignon." 

"  That  is  a  distance." 

"Yes;  and  only  five  sous  for  drink  money.  Hang 
your  respectable  women !  " 

"Oh!  they  are  respectable,  are  they?" 

"  I'll  answer  for  that.  The  other  lot  are  far  more 
open-handed.  I  know  both  of  them." 

And  with  these  words  and  a  knowing  wink,  he 
touched  up  his  horse  and  drove  away ;  and  the  portress, 
only  half  satisfied,  went  back  to  her  lodge. 

"  Why  that  is  the  quarter  where  all  the  swells  live," 
murmured  she.  "  I'll  tip  the  maid  next  time,  and  she'll 
let  out  everything." 

After  Paul's  departure,  Andre  could  not  remain 
quiet;  for  it  appeared  to  him  as  if  each  second  was  a 
century.  He  had  thrown  open  the  door  of  his  studio, 
and  ran  to  the  head  of  the  stairs  at  every  sound. 

At  last  their  footsteps  really  sounded  on  the  steps. 
The  sweetest  music  in  the  world  is  the  rustle  of  the 
beloved  one's  dress.  Leaning  over  the  banisters,  he 
gazed  fondly  down.  Soon  she  appeared,  and  in  a  short 
time  had  gained  the  open  door  of  the  studio. 

"You  see,  Andre,"  said  she,  extending  her  hand, 
"  you  see  that  I  am  true  to  my  time." 

Pale,  and  trembling  with  emotion,  Andre  pressed  the 
little  hand  to  his  lips. 

"Ah!  Mademoiselle  Sabine,  how  kind  you  are! 
Thanks,  a  thousand  thanks." 

Yes,  it  was  indeed  Sabine,  the  scion  of  th?  lordly 
house  of  Mussidan,  who  had  come  to  visit  the  poor 


MADEMOISELLE   DE   MUSSIDAN      107 

foundling  of  the  Hotel  de  Vendome  in  his  studio,  and 
who  thus  risked  all  that  was  most  precious  to  her  in 
the  world,  her  honor  and  her  reputation.  Yes,  re- 
gardless of  the  conventionalities  among  which  she  had 
been  reared,  dared  to  cross  that  social  abyss  which 
separates  the  Avenue  de  Matignon  from  the  Rue  de  la 
Tour  d'Auvergne.  Cold  reason  finds  no  excuse  for 
such  a  step,  but  the  heart  can  easily  solve  this  seeming 
riddle.  Sabine  and  Andre  had  been  lovers  for  more 
than  two  years.  Their  first  acquaintance  had  com- 
menced at  the  Chateau  de  Mussidan.  At  the  end  of 
the  summer  of  1865,  Andre,  whose  constant  applica- 
tion to  work  had  told  upon  his  health,  determined  to 
take  a  change,  when  his  master,  Jean  Lanier,  called 
him,  and  said, — 

"  If  you  wish  for  a  change,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  earn  three  or  four  hundred  francs,  now  is  your  time. 
An  architect  has  written  to  me,  asking  me  for  a  skilled 
stone  carver,  to  do  some  work  in  the  country  at  a  mag- 
nificent mansion  in  the  midst  of  the  most  superb 
scenery.  Would  you  care  about  undertaking  this  ?  " 

The  proposal  was  a  most  acceptable  one  to  Andre, 
and  in  a  week's  time  he  was  on  his  way  to  his  work 
with  a  prospect  of  living  for  a  month  in  pure  country 
air.  Upon  his  arrival  at  the  Chateau,  he  made  a  thor- 
ough examination  of  the  work  with  which  he  had  been 
entrusted.  He  saw  that  he  could  finish  it  with  perfect 
ease,  for  it  was  only  to  restore  the  carved  work  on  a 
balcony,  which  would  not  take  more  than  a  fortnight. 
He  did  not,  however,  press  on  the  work,  for  the  beauti- 
ful scenery  enchanted  him. 

He  made  many  exquisite  sketches,  and  his  health  be- 
gan to  return  to  him.  But  there  was  another  reason 
why  he  was  in  no  haste  to  complete  his  task,  one  which 


108  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

he  hardly  ventured  even  to  confess  to  himself :  he  had 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  young  girl  in  the  park  of  the 
Chateau  who  had  caused  a  new  feeling  to  spring  up  in 
his  heart.  It  was  Sabine  de  Mussidan.  The  Count, 
as  the  season  came  on,  had  gone  to  Germany,  the 
Countess  had  flitted  away  to  Luzon,  and  the  daughter 
was  sent  to  the  dull  old  country  mansion  in  charge  of 
her  old  aunt.  It  was  the  old,  old  story;  two  young 
hearts  loving  with  all  the  truth  and  energy  of  their 
natures.  They  had  exchanged  a  few  words  on  their 
first  meeting,  and  on  the  next  Sabine  went  on  to  the 
balcony  and  watched  the  rapid  play  of  Andre's  chisel 
with  childish  delight.  For  a  long  time  they  conversed, 
and  Sabine  was  surprised  at  the  education  and  refine- 
ment of  the  young  workman.  Utterly  fresh,  and  with- 
out experience,  Sabine  could  not  understand  her  new 
sensations.  Andre  held,  one  night,  a  long  converse 
with  himself,  and  was  at  last  obliged  to  confess  that 
he  loved  her  fondly.  He  ran  the  extent  of  his  folly 
and  madness,  and  recognized  the  barrier  of  birth  and 
wealth  that  stood  between  them,  and  was  overwhelmed 
with  consternation. 

The  Chateau  de  Mussidan  stands  in  a  very  lonely 
spot,  and  one  of  the  roads  leading  to  it  passes  through 
a  dense  forest,  and  therefore  it  had  been  arranged  that 
Andre  was  to  take  his  meals  in  the  house.  After  a 
time  Sabine  began  to  feel  that  this  isolation  was  a  need- 
less humiliation. 

"Why  can't  M.  Andre  take  his  meals  with  us?" 
asked  she  of  her  aunt.  "  He  is  certainly  more  gentle- 
manlike than  many  of  those  who  visit  us,  and  I  think 
that  his  conversation  would  entertain  you." 

The  old  lady  was  easily  persuaded  to  adopt  this 
suggestion,  though  at  first  it  seemed  an  odd  kind  of 


MADEMOISELLE   DE   MUSSIDAN       109 

thing  to  admit  a  mere  working  man  to  her  table;  but 
she  was  so  bored  with  the  loneliness  of  the  place  that 
she  hailed  with  delight  anything  that  would  break  its 
monotony.  Andre  at  once  accepted  the  proposal,  and 
the  old  lady  would  hardly  believe  her  eyes  when  her 
guest  entered  the  room  with  the  dress  and  manners  of 
a  highbred  gentleman.  "It  is  hardly  to  be  believed," 
said  she,  as  she  was  preparing  to  go  to  bed,  "that  a 
mere  carver  of  stone  should  be  so  like  a  gentleman.  It 
seems  to  me  that  all  distinctions  of  social  rank  have 
vanished.  It  is  time  for  me  to  die,  or  we  are  rapidly 
approaching  a  state  of  anarchy." 

In  spite  of  her  prejudices,  however,  Andre  contrived 
to  win  the  old  lady's  heart,  and  won  a  complete  victory 
by  painting  her  portrait  in  full  gala  costume.  From 
that  moment  he  was  treated  as  one  of  the  family,  and, 
having  no  fear  of  a  rebuff,  was  witty  and  sprightly  in 
his  manner.  Once  he  told  the  old  lady  the  true  story 
of  his  life.  Sabine  was  deeply  interested,  and  marvelled 
at  his  energy  and  endurance,  which  had  won  for  him 
a  place  on  the  ladder  that  leads  to  future  eminence.  She 
saw  in  him  the  realization  of  all  her  girlish  dreams,  and 
finally  confessed  to  herself  that  she  loved  him.  Both 
her  father  and  mother  had  their  own  pleasures  and  pur- 
suits, and  Sabine  was  as  much  alone  in  the  world  as 
Andre. 

The  days  now  fled  rapidly  by.  Buried  in  this  se- 
cluded country  house,  they  were  as  free  as  the  breeze 
that  played  through  the  trees  of  the  forest,  for  the  old 
lady  rarely  disturbed  them.  After  the  morning  meal, 
she  would  beg  Andre  to  read  the  newspaper  to  her, 
and  fell  into  a  doze  before  he  had  been  five  minutes  at 
the  task.  Then  the  young  people  would  slip  quietly 
away,  as  merry  as  truants  from  school.  They  wandered 


110  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

beneath  the  shade  of  the  giant  oaks,  or  climbed  the 
rocks  that  stood  by  the  river  bank.  Sometimes,  seated 
in  a  dilapidated  boat,  they  would  drift  down  the  stream 
with  its  flower-bedecked  banks.  The  water  was  often 
almost  covered  with  rushes  and  water  lilies.  Two 
months  of  enchantment  thus  fled  past,  two  months  of 
the  intoxications  of  love,  though  the  mention  of  the 
tender  passion  never  rose  to  their  lips  from  their  hearts, 
where  it  was  deeply  imbedded.  Andre  had  cast  all 
reflections  regarding  the  perils  of  the  future  to  the 
winds,  and  only  thanked  heaven  for  the  happiness  that 
he  was  experiencing. 

"  Am  I  not  too  happy  ? "  he  would  say  to  himself. 
"  I  fear  this  cannot  last."  And  he  was  right.  Anxious 
to  justify  his  remaining  at  Mussidan  after  his  task  was 
completed,  Andre  determined  to  add  to  what  he  had 
already  done  a  masterpiece  of  modern  art,  by  carving 
a  garland  of  fruit  and  flowers  over  the  old  balcony,  and 
every  morning  he  rose  with  the  sun  to  proceed  with 
his  task. 

One  morning  the  valet  came  to  him,  saying  that  the 
old  lady  was  desirous  of  seeing  him,  and  begged  him 
to  lose  no  time,  as  the  business  was  urgent.  A  presenti- 
ment of  evil  came  like  a  chilly  blast  upon  the  young 
man's  heart.  He  felt  that  his  brief  dream  of  happiness 
was  at  an  end,  and  he  followed  the  valet  as  a  criminal 
follows  his  executioner  to  the  scaffold. 

As  he  opened  the  door  in  which  Sabine's  aunt  was 
awaiting  him,  the  old  man  whispered, — 

"Have  a  care,  sir,  have  a  care.  Madame  is  in  a 
terrible  state;  I  have  not  seen  her  like  this  since  her 
husband  died." 

The  old  lady  was  in  a  terrible  state  of  excitement, 
and  in  spite  of  rheumatic  pains  was  walking  up  and 


MADEMOISELLE   DE   MUSSIDAN       111 

down  the  room,  gesticulating  wildly,  and  striking  her 
crutch-handled  stick  on -the  floor. 

"  And  so,"  cried  she  in  that  haughty  tone  adopted  by 
women  of  aristocratic  lineage  when  addressing  a  sup- 
posed inferior,  "  you  have,  I  hear,  had  the  impudence 
to  make  love  to  my  niece?" 

Andre's  pale  face  grew  crimson  as  he  stammered 
out, — 

"  Madame " 

"  Gracious  powers,  fellow !  "  cried  the  angry  woman, 
"  do  you  dare  to  deny  this  when  your  very  face  betrays 
you?  Do  you  know  that  you  are  an  insolent  rogue 
even  to  venture  to  look  on  Sabine  de  Mussidan  ?  How 
dare  you!  Perhaps  you  thought  that  if  you  compro- 
mised her,  we  should  be  forced  to  submit  to  this  ignoble 
alliance." 

"  On  my  honor,  madame,  I  assure  you " 

"  On  your  honor !  To  hear  you  speak,  one  would 
suppose  that  you  were  a  gentleman.  If  my  poor  hus- 
band were  alive,  he  would  break  every  bone  in  your 
body;  but  I  am  satisfied  with  ordering  you  out  of  the 
house.  Pack  up  your  tools,  and  be  off  at  once." 

Andre  stood  as  though  petrified  into  stone.  He  took 
no  notice  of  her  imperious  manner,  but  only  realized 
the  fact  that  he  should  never  see  Sabine  again,  and, 
turning  deadly  pale,  staggered  to  a  chair.  The  old  lady 
was  so  surprised  at  the  manner  in  which  Andre  received 
her  communication,  that  for  a  time  she  too  was  be- 
wildered, and  could  not  utter  a  word. 

"  I  am  unfortunately  of  a  violent  temper,"  said  she, 
speaking  in  more  gentle  accents,  "  and  perhaps  I  have 
spoken  too  severely,  for  I  am  much  to  blame  in  this 
matter,  as  the  priest  of  Berron  said  when  he  came  to 
inform  me  of  what  was  going  on.  I  am  so  old  that 


112  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

I  forgot  what  happens  when  young  people  are  thrown 
together,  and  I  was  the  only  one  who  did  not  know 
what  was  going  on  when  you  were  affording  subject 
of  gossip  for  the  whole  countryside;  my  niece " 

But  here  Andre  started  to  his  feet  with  a  threatening 
look  upon  his  face. 

"  I  could  strangle  them  all/'  cried  he. 

"That  is  right/'  returned  the  old  lady,  secretly 
pleased  at  his  vigor  and  energy,  "  but  you  cannot  silence 
every  idle  tongue.  Fortunately,  matters  have  not  gone 
too  far.  Go  away,  and  forget  my  niece." 

She  might  as  well  have  told  the  young  man  to  go 
away  and  die. 

"  Madame ! "  cried  he  in  accents  of  despair,  "  pray 
listen  to  me.  I  am  young,  and  full  of  hope  and  cour- 
age." 

The  old  lady  was  so  touched  by  his  evident  sorrow, 
that  the  tears  rolled  down  her  wrinkled  cheeks. 

"What  is  the  good  of  saying  this  to  me?"  asked 
she.  "  Sabine  is  not  my  daughter.  All  that  I  can  do 
is  never  to  say  a  word  to  her  father  and  mother.  Great 
heavens,  if  Mussidan  should  ever  learn  what  has  oc- 
curred! There,  do  go  away.  You  have  upset  me  so 
that  I  do  not  believe  I  shall  eat  a  mouthful  for  the 
next  two  days." 

Andre  staggered  out  of  the  room.  It  seemed  to  him 
as  if  the  flooring  heaved  and  rolled  beneath  his  feet. 
He  could  see  nothing,  but  he  felt  some  one  take  him 
by  the  hand.  It  was  Sabine,  pallid  and  cold  as  a 
marble  statue. 

"  I  have  heard  everything,  Andre,"  murmured  she. 

"Yes,"  stammered  he.  "All  is  over,  and  I  am 
dismissed." 

"Where  are  you  going  to?" 


MADEMOISELLE   DE   MUSSIDAN       113 

"Heaven  only  knows,  and  when  once  I  leave  this 
place  I  care  not." 

"  Do  not  be  desperate/'  urged  Sabine,  laying  her 
hand  upon  his  arm. 

His  fixed  glance  terrified  her  as  he  muttered, — 

"  I  cannot  help  it ;  I  am  driven  to  despair." 

Never  had  Sabine  appeared  so  lovely;  her  eyes 
gleamed  with  some  generous  impulse,  and  her  face 
glowed. 

"  Suppose/'  said  she,  "  I  could  give  you  a  ray  of 
future  hope,  what  would  you  do  then  ?  " 

"  What  would  I  not  do  then  ?  All  that  a  man  could. 
I  would  fight  my  way  through  all  opposition.  Give 
me  the  hardest  task,  and  I  will  fulfil  it.  If  money  is 
wanted,  I  will  gain  it ;  if  a  name,  I  will  win  it." 

"There  is  one  thing  that  you  have  forgotten,  and 
that  is  patience." 

"And  that,  Mademoiselle,  I  possess  also.  Do  you 
not  understand  that  with  one  word  of  hope  from  you 
I  can  live  on  ?  " 

Sabine  raised  her  head  heavenwards.  "  Work !  "  she 
exclaimed.  "Work  and  hope.,  for  I  swear  that  I  will 
never  wed  other  than  you." 

Here  the  voice  of  the  old  lady  interrupted  the  lovers. 

"  Still  lingering  here ! "  she  cried,  in  a  voice  like  a 
trumpet  call.  Andre  fled  away  with  hope  in  his  heart, 
and  felt  that  he  had  now  something  to  live  for.  No 
one  knew  exactly  what  happened  after  his  departure. 
No  doubt  Sabine  brought  round  her  aunt  to  her  way 
of  thinking,  for  at  her  death,  which  happened  two 
months  afterward,  she  left  the  whole  of  her  immense 
fortune  directly  to  her  niece,  giving  her  the  income 
while  she  remained  single,  and  the  capital  on  her  mar- 
riage, whether  with  or  without  the  consent  of  her  par- 


114  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

ents.  Madame  de  Mussidan  declared  that  the  old  lady 
had  gone  crazy,  but  both  Andre  and  Sabine  knew  what 
she  had  intended,  and  sincerely  mourned  for  the  excel- 
lent woman,  whose  last  act  had  been  to  smooth  away 
the  difficulties  from  their  path.  Andre  worked  harder 
than  ever,  and  Sabine  encouraged  him  by  fresh  prom- 
ises. Sabine  was  even  more  free  in  Paris  than  at 
Mussidan,  and  her  attached  maid,  Modeste,  would  have 
committed  almost  any  crime  to  promote  the  happiness 
of  her  beloved  mistress.  The  lovers  now  corresponded 
regularly,  and  Sabine,  accompanied  by  Modeste,  fre- 
quently visited  the  artist's  studio,  and  never  was  a  saint 
treated  with  greater  respect  and  adoration  than  was 
Sabine  by  Andre. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

ROSE'S     PROMOTION. 

As  soon  as  Andre  had  released  her  hand,  Sabine  took 
off  her  hat,  and,  handing  it  to  Modeste,  remarked, — 

"  How  am  I  looking  to-day,  Andre  ? " 

The  young  painter  hastened  to  reassure  her  on  this 
point,  and  she  continued  in  joyous  tones, — 

"  No,  I  do  not  want  compliments ;  I  want  to  know 
if  I  look  the  right  thing  for  sitting  for  my  portrait." 

Sabine  was  very  beautiful,  but  hers  was  a  different 
style  of  beauty  from  that  of  Rose,  whose  ripe,  sensu- 
ous charms  were  fitted  to  captivate  the  admiration  of 
the  voluptuary,  while  Sabine  was  of  the  most  refined 
and  ethereal  character.  Rose  fettered  the  body  with 
earthly  trammels,  while  Sabine  drew  the  soul  heaven- 


ROSE'S    PROMOTION  115 

ward.  Her  beauty  was  not  of  the  kind  that  dazzles,  for 
the  air  of  proud  reserve  which  she  threw  over  it,  in 
some  slight  measure  obscured  its  brilliancy. 

She  might  have  passed  unnoticed,  like  the  work  of 
a  great  master's  brush  hanging  neglected  over  the  altar 
of  a  village  church;  but  when  the  eye  had  once  fath- 
omed that  hidden  beauty,  it  never  ceased  to  gaze  on  it 
with  admiration.  She  had  a  broad  forehead,  covered 
with  a  wealth  of  chestnut  hair,  soft,  lustrous  eyes,  and 
an  exquisitely  chiselled  mouth. 

"  Alas ! "  said  Andre,  "  when  I  gaze  upon  you,  I 
have  to  confess  how  impossible  it  is  to  do  you  justice. 
Before  you  came  I  had  fancied  that  the  portrait  was 
completed,  but  now  I  see  that  I  have  only  made  a 
failure." 

As  he  spoke,  he  drew  aside  the  curtain,  and  the  young 
girl's  portrait  was  revealed.  It  was  by  no  means  a 
work  of  extraordinary  merit.  The  artist  was  only 
twenty-four  years  of  age,  and  had  been  compelled  to 
interrupt  his  studies  to  toil  for  his  daily  bread,  but  it 
was  full  of  originality  and  genius.  Sabine  gazed  at 
it  for  a  few  moments  in  silence,  and  then  murmured  the 
words, — 

"It  is  lovely!" 

But  Andre  was  too  discouraged  to  notice  her  praise. 

"It  is  like,"  remarked  he,  "but  a  photograph  also 
has  that  merit.  I  have  only  got  your  features,  but  not 
your  expression;  it  is  an  utter  failure.  Shall  I  try 
again  ?  " 

Sabine  stopped  him  with  a  gesture  of  denial. 

"  You  shall  not  try  again,"  said  she  decidedly. 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  asked  he  in  astonishment. 

"  Because  this  visit  will  be  my  last,  Andre." 

"  The  last  ?  "  stammered  the  painter.    "  In  what  way 


116  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

have  I  so  offended  you,  that  you  should  inflict  so  terri- 
ble a  punishment  on  me  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  punish  you.  You  asked  for  my 
portrait,  and  I  yielded  to  your  request;  but  let  us  talk 
reasonably.  Do  you  not  know  that  I  am  risking  my 
reputation  by  coming  here  day  after  day?" 

Andre  made  no  reply,  for  this  unexpected  blow  had 
almost  stunned  him. 

"Besides,"  continued  Mademoiselle  de  Mussidan, 
"  what  is  to  be  done  with  the  portrait  ?  It  must  be  hid- 
den away,  as  if  it  were  something  we  were  ashamed  of. 
"Remember,  on  your  success  hangs  our  marriage." 

"  I  do  not  forget  that." 

"  Hasten  then  to  gain  all  honor  and  distinction,  for 
the  world  must  agree  with  me  in  saying  that  my  choice 
has  been  a  wise  one." 

"  I  will  do  so." 

"  I  fully  believe  you,  dear  Andre,  and  remember  what 
I  said  to  you  a  year  ago.  Achieve  a  name,  then  go  to 
my  father  and  ask  for  my  hand.  If  he  refuses,  if  my 
supplications  do  not  move  him?  I  will  quit  his  roof 
forever." 

"You  are  right,"  answered  Andre.  "I  should  in- 
deed be  a  fool  if  I  sacrificed  a  future  happy  life  for  a 
few  hours  of  present  enjoyment,  and  I  will  implic- 
itly  " 

"And  now,"  said  Sabine,  "that  we  have  agreed  on 
this  point,  let  us  discuss  our  mutual  interests,  of  which 
it  seems  that  we  have  been  a  little  negligent  up  till 
now." 

Andre  at  once  began  to  tell  her  of  all  that  had  befallen 
him  since  they  had  last  met,  his  defeats  and  successes. 

"  I  am  in  an  awkward  plight,"  said  he.  "  Yesterday, 
that  well  known  collector,  Prince  Crescenzi,  came  to 


ROSE'S   PROMOTION  117 

my  studio.  One  of  my  pictures  took  his  fancy,  and  he 
ordered  another  from  me,  for  which  he  would  pay  six 
thousand  francs." 

"  That  was  quite  a  stroke  of  luck." 

"Just  so,  but  unfortunately  he  wants  it  directly. 
Then  Jean  Lamou,  who  has  more  in  his  hand  than  he 
can  manage,  has  offered  me  the  decoration  of  a  palatial 
edifice  that  he  is  building  for  a  great  speculator,  M. 
Gandelu.  I  am  to  engage  all  the  workmen,  and  shall 
receive  some  seven  or  eight  hundred  francs  a  month." 

"  But  how  does  this  trouble  you  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you.  I  have  twice  seen  M.  Gandelu,  and 
he  wants  me  to  begin  work  at  once ;  but  I  cannot  accept 
both,  and  must  choose  between  them." 

Sabine  reflected. 

"  I  should  execute  the  Prince's  commission,"  said  she. 

"  So  should  I,  only " 

The  girl  easily  found  the  cause  of  his  hesitation. 

"  Will  you  never  forget  that  I  am  wealthy  ?  "  replied 
she. 

"The  one  would  bring  in  the  most  money,"  he  re- 
turned, "  and  the  other  most  credit." 

"  Then  accept  the  offer  of  M.  Gandelu." 

The  old  cuckoo-clock  in  the  corner  struck  five. 

"  Before  we  part,  dear  Andre,"  resumed  she,  "  I 
must  tell  you  of  a  fresh  trouble  which  threatens  us; 
there  is  a  project  for  marrying  me  to  M.  de  Breulh- 
Faverlay." 

"  What,  that  very  wealthy  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Just  so." 

"Well,  if  I  oppose  my  father's  wishes,  an  explana- 
tion must  ensue,  and  this  just  now  I  do  not  desire.  I 
therefore  intend  to  speak  openly  to  M.  de  Breulh-Fav- 
erlay,  who  is  an  honorable,  straightforward  man ;  aj^ 


118  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

when  I  tell  him  the  real  state  of  the  case,  he  will  with- 
draw his  pretensions." 

"  But,"  replied  Andre,  "  should  he  do  so,  another  will 
come  forward." 

"  That  is  very  possible,  and  in  his  turn  the  successor 
will  be  dismissed." 

"  Ah ! "  murmured  the  unhappy  man,  "  how  terrible 
will  be  your  life, — a  scene  of  daily  strife  with  your 
father  and  mother." 

After  a  tender  farewell,  Sabine  and  Modeste  left. 
Andre  had  wished  to  be  permitted  to  go  out  and  pro- 
cure a  vehicle,  but  this  the  young  girl  negatived,  and 
took  her  leave,  saying, — 

"I  shall  see  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay  to-morrow." 

For  a  moment  after  he  was  left  alone  Andre  felt 
very  sad,  but  a  happy  thought  flashed  across  his  brain. 

"  Sabine,"  said  he,  "  went  away  on  foot,  and  I  may 
follow  her  without  injury  to  her  reputation." 

In  another  moment  he  was  in  the  street,  and  caught 
a  glimpse  of  Sabine  and  her  maid  under  a  lamp  at  the 
next  corner.  He  crossed  to  the  other  side  of  the  way 
and  followed  them  cautiously. 

"  Perhaps,"  murmured  he,  "  the  time  is  not  far  dis- 
tant when  I  shall  have  the  right  to  be  with  her  in  her 
walks,  and  feel  her  arm  pressed  against  mine." 

By  this  time  Sabine  and  her  companion  had  reached 
the  Rue  Blanche,  and  hailing  a  cab,  were  rapidly  driven 
away.  Andre  gazed  after  it,  and  as  soon  as  it  was 
out  of  sight,  decided  to  return  to  his  work.  As  he 
passed  a  brilliantly  lighted  shop,  a  fresh  young  voice 
saluted  him. 

"  M.  Andre,  M.  Andre." 

He  looked  up  in  extreme  surprise,  and  saw  a  young 
woman,  dressed  in  the  most  extravagant  style,  standing 


ROSE'S   PROMOTION  119 

by  the  door  of  a  brougham,  which  glittered  with  fresh 
paint  and  varnish.  In  vain  he  tried  to  think  who  she 
could  be,  but  at  length  his  memory  served  him. 

"  Mademoiselle  Rose/'  said  he,  "  or  I  am  much  mis- 
taken/' 

A  shrill,  squeaky  voice  replied,  "  Madame  Zora 
Chantemille,  if  you  please." 

Andre  turned  sharply  round  and  found  himself  face 
to  face  with  a  young  man  who  had  completed  an  order 
he  was  giving  to  the  coachman. 

"Ah,  is  that  you?"  said  he. 

"  Yes,  Chantemiile  is  the  name  of  the  estate  that  I 
intend  to  settle  on  madame." 

The  painter  examined  the  personage  who  had  just 
addressed  him  with  much  curiosity.  He  was  dressed  in 
the  height  or  rather  the  burlesque  of  fashion,  wore  an 
eyeglass,  and  an  enormous  locket  on  his  chain.  The 
face  which  surmounted  all  this  grandeur  wa*  almost 
that  of  a  monkey,  and  Toto  Chupin  had  not  ex- 
aggerated its  ugliness  when  he  likened  it  to  that 
animal. 

"  Pooh,"  cried  Rose,  "  what  matters  a  name  ?  All 
you  have  to  do  is  to  ask  this  gentleman,  who  is  an  old 
friend  of  mine,  to  dinner."  And  without  waiting  for 
a  reply,  she  took  Andre  by  the  hand  and  led  him  into  a 
brilliantly  lighted  hall.  "  You  must  dine  with  us,"  she 
exclaimed ;  "  I  will  take  no  denial.  Come,  let  me  intro- 
duce you,  M.  Andre,  M.  Gaston  de  Gandelu.  There, 
that  is  all  settled." 

The  man  bowed. 

"  Andre,  Andre,"  repeated  Gandelu ;  "  why,  the  name 
is  familiar  to  me, — and  so  is  the  face.  Have  I  not  met 
you  at  my  father's  house?  Come  in ;  we  intend  to  have 
a  jovial  evening." 


120  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  I  really  cannot,"  pleaded  Andre.  "  I  have  an  en- 
gagement." 

"Throw  it  over  then;  we  intend  to  keep  you,  now 
that  we  have  got  you." 

Andre  hesitated  for  a  moment,  but  he  felt  dispirited, 
and  that  he  required  rousing.  "  After  all,"  thought  he, 
"  why  should  I  refuse?  If  this  young  man's  friends  are 
like  himself,  the  evening  will  be  an  amusing  one." 

"  Come  up,"  cried  Rose,  placing  her  foot  upon  the 
stairs.  Andre  was  about  to  follow  her,  but  was  held 
back  by  Gandelu,  whose  face  was  radiant  with  delight. 

"  Was  there  ever  such  a  girl  ?  "  whispered  he ;  "  but 
there,  don't  jump  at  conclusions.  I  have  only  had  her 
in  hand  for  a  short  time,  but  I  am  a  real  dab  at  start- 
ing a  woman  grandly,  and  it  would  be  hard  to  find  my 
equal  in  Paris,  you  may  bet." 

"That  can  be  seen  at  a  glance,"  answered  Andre, 
concealing  a  smile. 

"  Well,  look  here,  I  began  at  once.  Zora  is  a  quaint 
name,  is  it  not?  It  was  my  invention.  She  isn't  a 
right  down  swell  to-day,  but  I  have  ordered  six  dresses 
for  her  from  Van  Klopen;  such  swell  gets  up!  You 
know  Van  Klopen,  don't  you,  the  best  man-milliner  in 
Paris.  Such  taste !  such  ideas !  you  never  saw  the  like." 

Rose  had  by  this  time  reached  her  drawing-room. 
"  Andre,"  said  she,  impatiently,  "  are  you  never  coming 
up?" 

"Quick,  quick,"  said  Gandelu,  "let  us  go  at  once; 
if  she  gets  into  a  temper  she  is  sure  to  have  a  nervous 
attack,  so  let  us  hurry  up." 

Rose  did  all  she  could  to  dazzle  Andre,  and  as  a  com- 
mencement exhibited  to  him  her  domestics,  a  cook  and 
a  maid;  then  he  was  shown  every  article  of  furniture, 
and  not  one  was  spared  him.  He  was  forced  to  admire 


ROSE'S   PROMOTION  121 

the  drawing-room  suite  covered  with  old  gold  silk, 
trimmed  with  blue,  and  to  test  the  thickness  of  the  cur- 
tains. Bearing  aloft  a  large  candelabra,  and  covering 
himself  with  wax,  Gandelu  led  the  way,  telling  them 
the  price  of  everything  like  an  energetic  tradesman. 

"That  clock,"  said  he,  "cost  me  a  hundred  louis, 
and  dirt  cheap  at  the  price.  How  funny  that  you  should 
have  known  my  father!  Has  he  not  a  wonderful  in- 
tellect? That  flower  stand  was  three  hundred  francs, 
absolutely  given  away.  Take  care  of  the  governor,  he 
is  as  sharp  as  a  needle.  He  wanted  me  to  have  a  pro- 
fession, but  no,  thank  you.  Yes,  that  occasional  table 
was  a  bargain  at  twenty  louis.  Six  months  ago  I 
thought  that  the  old  man  would  have  dropped  off,  but 

now  the  doctors  say "  He  stopped  suddenly,  for  a 

loud  noise  was  heard  in  the  vestibule.  "  Here  come  the 
fellows  I  invited,"  cried  he,  and  placing  the  candelabra 
on  the  table,  he  hurried  from  the  room. 

Andre  was  delighted  at  so  grand  an  opportunity  of 
studying  the  genus  masher.  Rose  felt  flattered  by  the 
admiration  her  fine*  rooms  evidently  caused. 

"You  see,"  cried  she,  "I  have  left  Paul;  he  both- 
ered me  awfully,  and  ended  by  half  starving  me." 

"  Why,  you  are  joking ;  he  came  here  to-day,  and  said 
he  was  earning  twelve  thousand  francs  a  year." 

"  Twelve  thousand  humbugs.  A  fellow  that  will  take 
five  hundred  francs  from  an  old  scarecrow  he  never 
met  before  is v 

Rose  broke  off  abruptly;  for  at  that  moment  young 
Gandelu  brought  in  his  friends,  and  introduced  them; 
they  were  all  of  the  same  type  as  their  host,  and  Andre 
was  about  to  study  them  more  intently,  when  a  white- 
waistcoated  waiter  threw  open  the  door,  exclaiming 
pompously,  "  Madame,  the  dinner  is  on  the  table." 


122  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

CHAPTER  X. 

"YOU  ARE  A  THIEF/' 

WHEN  Mascarin  was  asked  what  was  the  best  way  to 
achieve  certain  results,  his  invariable  reply  was,  "  Keep 
moving,  keep  moving."  He  had  one  great  advantage 
over  other  men,  he  put  in  practice  the  doctrines  he 
preached,  and  at  seven  o'clock  the  morning  after  his 
interview  with  the  Count  de  Mussidan  he  was  hard  at 
work  in  his  room.  A  thick  fog  hung  over  the  city,  even 
penetrating  into  the  office,  which  had  begun  to  fill  with 
clhnts.  This  crowd  had  but  little  interest  for  the  head 
of  the  establishment,  as  it  consisted  chiefly  of  waiters 
frcfm  small  eating  houses,  and  cooks  who  knew  little 
or  nothing  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  houses  where 
they  were  in  service.  Finding  this  to  be  the  case,  Mas- 
carin handed  them  all  over  to  Beaumarchef,  and  only 
occasionally  nodded  to  the  serviteur  of  some  great  fam- 
ily, who  chanced  to  stroll  in. 

He  was  busily  engaged  in  arranging  those  pieces  of 
cardboard  which  had  so  puzzled  Paul  in  his  first  visit, 
and  was  so  much  occupied  with  his  task,  that  all  he 
could  do  was  to  mutter  broken  exclamations :  "  What  a 
stupendous  undertaking!  but  I  have  to  work  single- 
handed,  and  hold  in  my  hands  all  these  threads,  which 
for  twenty  years,  with  the  patience  of  a  spider,  I  have 
been  weaving  into  a  web.  No  one,  seeing  me  here, 
would  believe  this.  People  who  pass  me  by  in  the 
street  say,  'That  is  Mascarin,  who  keeps  a  servants' 
registry  office;'  that  is  the  way  in  which  they  look 
upon  me.  Let  them  laugh  if  they  like ;  they  little  know 


"YOU   ARE   A   THIEF"  123 

the  mighty  power  I  wield  in  secret.  No  one  suspects 
me.  no,  not  one.  I  may  seem  too  sanguine,  it  is  true," 
he  continued,  still  glancing  over  his  papers,  "  or  the  net 
may  break  and  some  of  the  fishes  slip  out.  That  idiot, 
Mussidan,  asked  me  if  I  was  acquainted  with  the  Penal 
Code.  I  should  think  I  was,  for  no  one  has  studied 
them  more  deeply  than  I  have,  and  there  is  a  clause  in 
volume  3,  chapter  2,  which  is  always  before  me.  Penal 
servitude  for  a  term  of  years;  and  if  I  am  convicted 
under  Article  306,  then  it  means  a  life  sentence."  He 
shuddered,  but  soon  a  smile  of  triumph  shone  over  his 
face  as  he  resumed,  "  Ah,  but  to  send  a  man  like  Mas- 
carin  for  change  of  air  to  Toulon,  he  must  be  caught, 
and  that  is  not  such  an  easy  task.  The  day  he  scents 
danger  he  disappears,  and  leaves  no  trace  behind  him. 
I  fear  that  I  cannot  look  for  too  much  from  my  com- 
panions, Catenae  and  Hortebise;  I  have  up  to  now 
kept  them  back.  Croisenois  would  never  betray  me, 
and  as  for  Beaumarchef,  La  Candele,  Toto  Chupin,  and 
a  few  other  poor  devils,  they  would  be  a  fine  haul  for 
the  police.  They  couldn't  split,  simply  because  they 
know  nothing."  Mascarin  chuckled,  and  then  adjust- 
ing his  spectacles  with  his  favorite  gesture,  said,  "  I 
shall  go  on  in  the  course  I  have  commenced,  straight 
as  the  flight  of  an  arrow.  I  ought  to  make  four  millions 
through  Croisenois.  Paul  shall  marry  Flavia,  that  is 
all  arranged,  and  Flavia  will  make  a  grand  duchess 
with  her  magnificent  income." 

He  had  by  this  time  arranged  his  pasteboard  squares, 
then  he  took  a  small  notebook,  alphabetically  arranged, 
from  a  drawer,  wrote  a  name  or  two  in  it,  and  then 
closing  it  said  with  a  deadly  smile,  "  There,  my  friends, 
you  are  all  registered,  though  you  little  suspect  it. 
You  are  all  rich,  and  think  that  you  are  free,  but  you 


124  CAUGHT    IN    THE   NET 

are  wrong,  for  there  is  one  man  who  owns  you,  soul 
and  body,  and  that  man  is  Baptiste  Mascarin;  and  at 
his  bidding,  high  as  you  hold  your  heads  now,  you  will 
crawl  to  his  feet  in  humble  abasement."  His  musings 
were  interrupted  by  a  knock  at  the  door.  He  struck 
the  bell  on  his  writing  table,  and  the  last  sound  of  it 
had  hardly  died  away,  when  Beaumarchef  stood  on  thf 
threshold. 

"You  desired  me,  sir/'  said  he,  with  the  utmost 
deference,  "  to  complete  my  report  regarding  young  M. 
Gandelu,  and  it  so  happens  that  the  cook  whom  he  has 
taken  into  his  service  in  the  new  establishment  he  has 
started  is  on  our  list.  She  has  just  come  to  pay  us 
eleven  francs  that  she  owed  us,  and  is  waiting  outside. 
Is  not  this  lucky?" 

Mascarin  made  a  little  grimace.  "  You  are  an  idiot, 
Beaumarchef,"  said  he,  "to  be  pleased  at  so  trivial  a 
matter.  I  have  often  told  you  that  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  luck  or  chance,  and  that  all  comes  to  those 
who  work  methodically." 

Beaumarchef  listened  to  his  master's  wisdom  in 
silent  surprise. 

"  And  pray,  who  is  this  woman  ?  "  asked  Mascarin. 

"  You  will  know  her  when  you  see  her,  sir.  She  is 
registered  under  class  D,  that  is,  for  employment  in 
rather  fast  establishments." 

"  Go  and  fetch  her,"  observed  Mascarin,  and  as  the 
man  left  the  room,  he  muttered,  "  Experience  has 
taught  me  that  it  is  madness  to  neglect  the  smallest  pre- 
caution." 

In  another  moment  the  woman  appeared,  and  Mas- 
carin at  once  addressed  her  with  that  air  of  friendly 
courtesy  which  made  him  so  popular  among  such 


"YOU   ARE   A   THIEF"  125 

women.  "  Well,  my  good  girl/'  said  he,  "  and  so  you 
have  got  the  sort  of  place  you  wanted,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  hope  so,  sir,  but  you  see  I  have  only  been  with 
Madame  Zora  de  Chantemille  since  yesterday." 

"Ah,  Zora  de  Chantemille,  that  is  a  fine  name,  in- 
deed." 

"  It  is  only  a  fancy  name,  and  she  had  an  awful  row 
over  it  with  master.  She  wanted  to  be  called  Raphaela, 
but  he  stood  out  for  Zora." 

"Zora  is  a  very  pretty  name,"  observed  Mascarin 
solemnly. 

"  Yes,  sir,  just  what  the  maid  and  I  told  her.  She 
is  a  splendid  woman,  and  doesn't  she  just  squander  the 
shiners?  Thirty  thousand  francs  have  gone  since  yes- 
terday." 

"  I  can  hardly  credit  it." 

"  Not  cash,  you  understand,  but  tick.  M.  de  Gandelu 
has  not  a  sou  of  his  own  in  the  world,  so  a  waiter  at 
Potier's  told  me,  and  he  knew  what  was  what;  but  the 
governor  is  rolling  in  money.  Yesterday  they  had  a 
house-warming — the  dinner,  with  wine,  cost  over  a 
thousand  francs." 

Not  seeing  how  to  utilize  any  of  this  gossip,  Mas- 
carin made  a  gesture  of  dismissal,  when  the  woman 
exclaimed, — 

"  Stop,  sir,  I  have  something  to  tell  you." 

"  Well,"  said  Mascarin,  throwing  himself  back  in 
his  chair  with  an  air  of  affected  impatience,  "  let  us 
have  it." 

"  We  had  eight  gents  to  dinner,  all  howling  swells, 
but  my  master  was  the  biggest  masher  of  the  lot. 
Madame  was  the  only  woman  at  table.  Well,  by  ten 
o'clock,  they  had  all  had  their  whack  of  drink,  and 
then  they  told  the  porter  to  keep  the  courtyard  clear. 


126  CAUGHT    IN    THE   NET 

What  do  you  think  they  did  then?  Why,  they  threw 
plates,  glasses,  knives,  forks,  and  dishes  bang  out  of 
the  window.  That  is  a  regular  swell  fashion,  so  the 
waiter  at  Porter's  told  me,  and  was  introduced  into 
Paris  by  a  Russian." 

Mascarin  closed  his  eyes  and  answered  languidly, 
"Go  on." 

"  Well,  sir,  there  was  one  gent  who  was  a  blot  on 
the  whole  affair.  He  was  tall,  shabbily  dressed,  and 
with  no  manners  at  all.  He  seemed  all  the  time  to  be 
sneering  at  the  rest.  But  didn't  Madame  make  up  to 
him  just.  She  kept  heaping  up  his  plate  and  filling 
his  glass.  When  the  others  got  to  cards,  he  sat  down 
by  my  mistress,  and  began  to  talk." 

"Could  you  hear  what  they  said?" 

"  I  should  think  so.  I  was  in  the  bedroom,  and  they 
were  near  the  door." 

"  Dear  me,"  remarked  Mascarin,  appearing  much 
shocked,  "surely  that  was  not  right?" 

"  I  don't  care  a  rap  whether  it  was  right  or  not.  I 
like  to  hear  all  about  the  people  whom  I  engage  with. 
They  were  talking  about  a  M.  Paul,  who  had  been 
Madame's  friend  before,  and  whom  the  gentleman  also 
knew.  Madame  said  that  this  Paul  was  no  great  shakes, 
and  that  he  had  stolen  twelve  thousand  francs." 

Mascarin  pricked  up  his  ears,  feeling  that  his  patience 
was  about  to  meet  with  its  reward. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  the  gentleman's  name,  to  whom 
Madame  said  all  this?"  asked  he. 

"  Not  I.    The  others  called  him  '  The  painter.' " 

This  explanation  did  not  satisfy  Mascarin. 

"Look  here,  my  good  girl,"  said  he,  "try  and  find 
out  the  fellow's  name.  I  think  he  is  an  artist  who 
owes  me  money." 


"YOU   ARE   A   THIEF"  127 

"All  right!  Rely  on  me;  and  now  I  must  be  off, 
for  I  have  breakfast  to  get  ready,  but  I'll  call  again 
to-morrow;"  and  with  a  curtsy  she  left  the  room. 

Mascarin  struck  his  hand  heavily  on  the  table. 

"  Hortebise  has  a  wonderful  nose  for  sniffing  out 
danger,"  said  he.  "This  Rose  and  the  young  fool 
who  is  ruining  himself  for  her  must  both  be  sup- 
pressed/' 

Beaumarchef  again  made  a  motion  of  executing  a 
thrust  with  the  rapier. 

"  Pooh,  pooh !  "  answered  his  master ;  "  don't  be 
childish.  I  can  do  better  than  that.  Rose  calls  herself 
nineteen,  but  she  is  more,  she  is  of  age,  while  Gandelu 
is  still  a  minor.  If  old  Gandelu  had  any  pluck,  he 
would  put  Article  354  in  motion." 

"  Eh,  sir  ?  "  said  Beaumarchef,  much  mystified. 

"  Look  here.  Before  twenty- four  hours  have  elapsed 
I  must  know  everything  as  to  the  habits  and  disposition 
of  Gandelu  senior.  I  want  to  know  on  what  terms  he 
is  with  his  son." 

"  Good.    I  will  set  La  Candele  to  work." 

"  And  as  the  young  fellow  will  doubtless  need  money, 
contrive  to  let  him  know  of  our  friend  Verminet,  the 
chairman  of  the  Mutual  Loan  Society." 

"  But  that  is  M.  Tantaine's  business." 

Mascarin  paid  no  heed  to  this,  so  occupied  was  he  by 
his  own  thoughts. 

"  This  young  artist  seems  to  have  mere  brains  than 
the  rest  of  the  set,  but  woe  to  him  if  he  crosses  my 
path.  Go  back  to  the  outer  office,  Beaumarchef,  I  hear 
some  clients  coming  in." 

The  man,  however,  did  not  obey. 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,"  said  he,  "  but  La  Candele,  who  is 
outside,  will  see  to  them.  I  have  my  report  to  make." 


128  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  Very  good.    Sit  down  and  go  on." 

Enchanted  at  this  mark  of  condescension,  Beaumar- 
chef  went  on.  "  Yesterday  there  was  nothing  of  im- 
portance, but  this  morning  Toto  Chupin  came." 

"He  had  not  lost  Caroline  Schimmel,  I  trust?" 

"No,  sir;  he  had  even  got  into  conversation  with 
her." 

"That  is  good.  He  is  a  cunning  little  devil;  a  pity 
that  he  is  not  a  trifle  more  honest." 

"He  is  sure,"  continued  Beaumarchef,  "that  the 
woman  drinks,  for  she  is  always  talking  of  persons 
following  her  about  who  menace  her,  and  she  is  so 
afraid  of  being  murdered  that  she  never  ventures  out 
alone.  She  lives  with  a  respectable  workingman  and 
his  wife,  and  pays  well  for  her  board,  for  she  seems 
to  have  plenty  of  money." 

"  That  is  a  nuisance,"  remarked  Mascarin,  evidently 
much  annoyed.  "Where  does  she  live?" 

"At  Montmartre,  beyond  the  Chateau  Rouge." 

"Good.  Tantaine  will  inquire  and  see  if  Toto  has 
made  no  mistake,  and  does  not  let  the  woman  slip 
through  his  fingers." 

"  He  won't  do  that,  for  he  told  me  that  he  was  on 
the  right  road  to  find  out  who  she  was,  and  where  she 
got  her  money  from.  But  I  ought  to  warn  you  against 
the  young  scamp,  for  I  have  found  out  that  he  robs  us 
and  sells  our  goods  far  below  their  value." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"I  have  long  had  my  suspicions,  and  yesterday  I 
wormed  it  all  out  from  a  disreputable  looking  fellow, 
who  came  here  to  ask  for  his  friend  Chupin." 

Men  accustomed  to  danger  are  ever  prompt  in  their 
decisions.  "Very  well,"  returned  Mascarin,  "if  this 


"YOU  ARE   A   THIEF"  129 

is  the  case,  Master  Chupin  shall  have  a  taste  of  prison 
fare." 

Beaumarchef  withdrew,  but  almost  immediately  re- 
appeared. 

"  Sir/'  said  he,  "  a  servant  from  M.  de  Croisenois  is 
here  with  a  note." 

"  Send  the  man  in,"  said  Mascarin. 

The  domestic  was  irreproachably  dressed,  and  looked 
what  he  was,  the  servant  of  a  nobleman. 

He  had  something  the  appearance  of  an  Englishman, 
with  a  high  collar,  reaching  almost  to  his  ears.  His 
face  was  clean  shaved,  and  of  a  ruddy  hue.  His  coat 
was  evidently  the  work  of  a  London  tailor,  and  his  ap- 
pearance was  as  stiff  as  though  carved  out  of  wood. 
Indeed,  he  looked  like  a  very  perfect  piece  of  mechan- 
ism. 

"  My  master,"  said  he,  "  desired  me  to  give  this  note 
into  your  own  hands." 

Under  cover  of  breaking  the  seal,  Mascarin  viewed 
this  model  servant  attentively.  He  was  a  stranger  to 
him,  for  he  had  never  supplied  Croisenois  with  a  do- 
mestic. 

"It  seems,  my  good  fellow,"  said  he,  "that  your 
master  was  up  earlier  than  usual  this  morning  ?  " 

The  man  frowned  a  little  at  this  familiar  address, 
and  then  slowly  replied, — 

"  When  I  took  service  with  the  Marquis,  he  agreed 
to  give  me  fifteen  louis  over  my  wages  for  the  privilege 
of  calling  me  '  a  good  fellow/  but  I  permit  no  one  to 
do  so  gratis.  I  think  that  my  master  is  still  asleep," 
continued  the  man  solemnly.  "  He  wrote  the  note  on 
his  return  from  the  club." 

"Is  there  any  reply?" 

"Yes,  sir." 


130  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  Good ;  then  wait  a  little." 

And  Mascarin,  opening  the  note,  read  the  following : 

"Mv  DEAR  FRIEND, — 

"  Baccarat  has  served  me  an  ugly  turn,  and  in  addi- 
tion to  all  my  ready  cash  I  have  given  an  I.O.U.  for 
three  thousand  francs.  To  save  my  credit  I  must  have 
this  by  twelve  to-morrow ." 

"His  credit/'  said  Mascarin.  "His  credit!  That 
is  a  fine  joke  indeed."  The  servant  stood  up  stiffly 
erect,  as  one  seeming  to  take  no  notice,  and  the  agent 
continued  reading  the  letter. 

"Am  I  wrong  in  looking  to  you  for  this  trifle?  I 
do  not  think  so.  Indeed,  I  have  an  idea  that  you  will 
send  me  a  hundred  and  fifty  louis  over  and  above, 
so  that  I  may  not  be  left  without  a  coin  in  my  pocket. 
How  goes  the  great  affair?  I  await  your  decision  on 
the  brink  of  a  precipice. 

"Yours  devotedly, 

"HENRY  DE  CROISENOIS." 

"And  so/'  growled  Mascarin,  "he  has  flung  away 
five  thousand  francs,  and  asks  me  to  find  it  for  him 
in  my  coffers.  Ah,  you  fools,  if  I  did  not  want  the 
grand  name  that  you  have  inherited  from  your  an- 
cestors, a  name  that  you  daily  bespatter  and  soil,  you 
might  whistle  for  your  five  thousand  francs." 

However,  as  Croisenois  was  absolutely  necessary  to 
him,  Mascarin  slowly  took  from  his  safe  five  notes  of 
a  thousand  francs  each,  and  handed  them  to  the  man. 

"  Do  you  want  a  receipt  ?  "  asked  the  man. 

"No;  this  letter  is  sufficient,  but  wait  a  bit;."  and 
Mascarin,  with  an  eye  to  the  future,  drew  a  twenty 
franc  piece  from  his  pocket,  and  placing  it  on  the  table, 
said  in  his  most  honeyed  accents, — 


"YOU   ARE   A   THIEF"  131 

"There,  my  friend,  is  something  for  yourself." 

"  No,  sir/'  returned  the  man ;  "  I  always  ask  wages 
enough  to  prevent  the  necessity  of  accepting  presents." 
And  with  this  dignified  reply  he  bowed  with  the  stiff 
air  of  a  Quaker,  and  walked  rigidly  out  of  the  room. 

The  agent  was  absolutely  thunderstruck.  In  all  his 
thirty  years'  experience  he  had  never  come  across  any- 
thing like  this. 

"I  can  hardly  believe  my  senses,"  muttered  he; 
te  where  on  earth  did  the  Marquis  pick  this  fellow  up  ? 
Can  it  be  that  he  is  sharper  than  I  fancied  ?  " 

Suddenly  a  new  and  terrifying  idea  flashed  across 
his  mind.  "Can  it  be,"  said  he,  "that  the  fellow  is 
not  a  real  servant,  after  all?  I  have  so  many  enemies 
that  one  day  they  may  strive  to  crush  me,  and  how- 
ever skilfully  I  may  play  my  cards,  some  one  may  hold 
a  better  hand."  This  idea  alarmed  him  greatly,  for  he 
was  in  a  position  in  which  he  had  everything  to  fear; 
for  when  a  great  work  is  approaching  completion,  the 
anxiety  of  the  promoter  becomes  stronger  and  stronger. 
"  No,  no,"  he  continued ;  "  I  am  getting  too  full  of 
suspicions;"  and  with  these  words  he  endeavored  to 
put  aside  the  vague  terrors  which  were  creeping  into 
his  soul. 

Suddenly  Beaumarchef,  evidently  much  excited,  ap- 
peared upon  the  threshold. 

"  What,  you  here  again ! "  cried  Mascarin,,  angrily ; 
"  am  I  to  have  no  peace  to-day  ?  " 

"  Sir,  the  young  man  is  here." 

"What  young  man?     Paul  Violaine?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Why,  I  told  him  not  to  come  until  twelve;  some- 
thing must  have  gone  wrong."  He  broke  off  his  speech, 
for  at  the  half-open  door  stood  Paul.  He  was  very 


132  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

pale,  and  his  eyes  had  the  expression  of  some  hunted 
creature.  His  attire  was  in  disorder  and  betokened  a 
night  spent  in  aimless  wanderings  to  and  fro. 

"  Ah,  sir ! "  said  he,  as  he  caught  sight  of  Mascarin. 

"Leave  us,  Beaumarchef,"  said  the  latter,  with  an 
imperious  wave  of  his  hand ;  "  and  now,  my  dear  boy, 
what  is  it  ?  " 

Paul  sank  into  a  chair. 

"  My  life  is  ended/'  said  he ;  "  I  am  lost,  dishonored 
for  ever." 

Mascarin  put  on  a  face  of  the  most  utter  bewilder- 
ment, though  he  well  knew  the  cause  of  Paul's  utter 
prostration ;  but  it  was  with  the  air  of  a  ready  sympa- 
thizer that  he  drew  his  chair  nearer  to  that  of  Paul, 
and  said, — 

"  Come,  tell  me  all  about  it ;  what  can  possibly  have 
happened  to  affect  you  thus?" 

In  deeply  tragic  tones,  Paul  replied, — 

"Rose  has  deserted  me." 

Mascarin  raised  his  hands  to  heaven. 

"  And  is  this  the  reason  that  you  say  you  are  dis- 
honored? Do  you  not  see  that  the  future  is  full  of 
promise  ?  " 

"  I  loved  Rose,"  returned  Paul,  and  his  voice  was 
so  full  of  pathos  that  Mascarin  could  hardly  repress  a 
smile.  "  But  this  is  not  all,"  continued  the  unhappy 
boy,  making  a  vain  effort  to  restrain  his  tears ;  "  I  am 
accused  of  theft." 

"  Impossible !  "  exclaimed  Mascarin. 

"Yes,  sir;  and  you  who  know  everything  are  the 
only  person  in  the  world  who  can  save  me.  You  were 
so  kind  to  me  yesterday  that  I  ventured  to  come  here 
before  the  time  appointed,  in  order  to  entreat  your 
help." 


"YOU   ARE   A  THIEF"  133 

"  But  what  do  you  think  I  can  do  ?  " 

"Everything,  sir;  but  let  me  tell  you  the  whole 
hideous  complication." 

Mascarin's  face  assumed  an  air  of  the  deepest  in- 
terest, as  he  answered,  "  Go  on." 

"  After  our  interview,"  began  Paul,  "  I  went  back 
to  the  Hotel  de  Perou,  and  on  the  mantelpiece  in  my 
garret  found  this  note  from  Rose." 

He  held  it  out  as  he  spoke,  but  Mascarin  made  no 
effort  to  take  it. 

"  In  it,"  resumed  Paul,  "  Rose  tells  me  she  no  longer 
loves  me,  and  begs  me  not  to  seek  to  see  her  again; 
and  also  that,  wearied  out  with  poverty,  she  has  ac- 
cepted the  offer  of  unlimited  supplies  of  money,  a  car- 
riage, and  diamonds." 

"  Are  you  surprised  at  this  ?  "  asked  Mascarin,  with 
a  sneer. 

"How  could  I  anticipate  such  an  infidelity,  when 
only  the  evening  before  she  swore  by  all  she  held  most 
sacred  that  she  loved  me  only?  Why  did  she  lie  to 
me?  Did  she  write  to  make  the  blow  fall  heavier? 
When  I  ascended  the  staircase,  I  was  picturing  to  my- 
self her  joy  when  I  told  her  of  your  kind  promises  to 
me.  For  more  than  an  hour  I  remained  in  my  garret, 
overwhelmed  with  the  terrible  thought  that  I  should 
never  see  her  again." 

Mascarin  watched  Paul  attentively,  and  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  his  words  were  too  fine  for  his  grief 
to  be  sincere. 

"  But  what  about  the  accusation  of  theft?  " 

"  I  am  coming  to  that,"  returned  the  young  man.  "I 
then  determined  to  obey  your  injunctions  and  leave  the 
Hotel  de  Perou,  with  which  I  was  more  than  ever  dis- 
gusted. I  went  downstairs  to  settle  with  Madame 


134  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Loupins,  when  ah!  hideous  disgrace!  As  I  handed 
her  the  two  weeks'  rent,  she  asked  me  with  a  con- 
temptuous sneer,  where  I  had  stolen  the  money  from  ?  " 

Mascarin  secretly  chuckled  over  the  success  of  his 
plans  thus  announced  by  Paul. 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  Nothing,  sir ;  I  was  too  horror-stricken ;  the  man 
Loupins  came  up,  and  both  he  and  his  wife  scowled  at 
me  threateningly.  After  a  short  pause,  they  asserted 
that  they  were  perfectly  sure  that  Rose  and  I  had 
robbed  M.  Tantaine." 

"  But  did  you  not  deny  this  monstrous  charge  ?  " 

"  I  was  utterly  bewildered,  for  I  saw  that  every  cir- 
cumstance was  against  me.  The  evening  before,  Rose, 
in  reply  to  Madame  Loupin's  importunities,  had  told 
her  that  she  had  no  money,  and  did  not  know  where  to 
get  any.  But,  as  you  perceive,  on  the  very  next  day  I 
appeared  in  a  suit  of  new  clothes,  and  was  prepared 
to  pay  my  debts,  while  Rose  had  left  the  house  some 
hours  before.  Does  not  all  this  form  a  chain  of  strange 
coincidences?  Rose  changed  the  five  hundred  franc 
note  that  Tantaine  had  lent  me  at  the  shop  of  a  grocer, 
named  Melusin,  and  this  suspicious  fool  was  the  first 
to  raise  a  cry  against  us,  and  dared  to  assert  that  a 
detective  had  been  ordered  to  watch  us." 

Mascarin  knew  all  this  story  better  than  Paul,  but 
here  he  interrupted  his  young  friend. 

"  I  do  not  understand  you/'  said  he,  "  nor  whether 
your  grief  arises  from  indignation  or  remorse.  Has 
there  been  a  robbery?" 

"How  can  I  tell?  I  have  never  seen  M.  Tantaine 
from  that  day.  There  is  a  rumor  that  he  has  been 
plundered  and  important  papers  taken  from  him,  and 
that  he  has  consequently  been  arrested." 


"YOU   ARE   A   THIEF"  135 

"  Why  did  you  not  explain  the  facts  ?  " 

"  It  would  have  been  of  no  use.  It  would  clearly 
prove  that  Tantaine  was  no  friend  of  mine,  not  even 
an  acquaintance,  and  they  would  have  laughed  me  to 
scorn  had  I  declared  that  the  evening  before  he  came 
into  my  room  and  made  me  a  present  of  five  hundred 
francs." 

"  I  think  that  I  can  solve  the  riddle,"  remarked  Mas- 
carin.  "  I  know  the  old  fellow  so  well." 

Paul  listened  with  breathless  eagerness. 

"  Tantaine/7  resumed  Mascarin,  "  is  the  best  and 
kindest  fellow  in  the  world,  but  he  is  not  quite  right 
in  the  upper  story.  He  was  a  wealthy  man  once,  but 
his  liberality  was  his  ruin.  He  is  as  poor  as  a  church-, 
mouse  now,  but  he  is  as  anxious  as  ever  to  be  char- 
itable. Unfortunately  in  the  place  I  procured  for  him 
he  had  a  certain  amount  of  petty  cash  at  his  disposal, 
and  moved  to  pity  at  the  sight  of  your  sufferings,  he 
gave  you  the  money  that  really  belonged  to  others. 
Then  he  sent  in  his  accounts,  and  the  deficiency  was 
discovered.  He  lost  his  head,  and  declared  that  he  had 
been  robbed.  You  lived  in  the  next  room;  you  were 
known  to  be  in  abject  poverty  on  the  one  day  and  in 
ample  funds  on  the  next;  hence  these  suspicions." 

All  was  too  clear  to  Paul,  and  a  cold  shiver  ran 
through  his  frame  as  he  saw  himself  arrested,  tried, 
and  condemned. 

"  But/'  stammered  he,  "  M.  Tantaine  holds  my  note 
of  hand,  which  is  a  proof  that  I  acted  honestly." 

"My  poor  boy,  do  you  think  that  if  he  hoped  to 
save  himself  at  your  expense  he  would  produce  it  ?  " 

"  Luckily,  sir,  you  know  the  real  state  of  the  case." 

Mascarin  shook  his  head. 

"  Would  my  story  be  credited  ?  "  asked  he.    "  Justice 


136  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

is  not  infallible,  and  I  must  confess  that  appearances 
are  against  you." 

Paul  was  crushed  down  beneath  this  weight  of  argu- 
ment. "  There  is  no  resource  for  me  then  but  death/' 
murmured  he,  "  for  I  will  not  live  a  dishonored  man." 

The  conduct  of  Paul  was  precisely  what  Mascarin 
had  expected,  and  he  felt  that  the  moment  had  arrived 
to  strike  a  final  blow. 

"  You  must  not  give  way  to  despair,  my  boy,"  said 
he. 

But  Paul  made  no  reply;  he  had  lost  the  power  of 
hearing.  Mascarin,  however,  had  no  time  to  lose,  and 
taking  him  by  the  arm,  shook  him  roughly.  "  Rouse 
yourself.  A  man  in  your  position  must  help  himself, 
and  bring  forward  proofs  of  his  innocence." 

"  There  is  no  use  in  fighting,"  replied  Paul.  "  Have 
you  not  just  shown  me  that  it  is  hopeless  to  endeavor 
to  prove  my  innocence?" 

Mascarin  grew  impatient  at  this  unnecessary  exhibi- 
tion of  cowardice,  but  he  concealed  his  feelings  as  best 
he  could. 

" No,  no,"  answered  he ;  "I  only  wished  to  show 
you  the  worst  side  of  the  affair." 

"  There  is  only  one  side." 

"  Not  so,  for  it  is  only  a  supposition  that  Tantaine 
had  made  away  with  money  entrusted  to  him,  and  we 
are  not  certain  of  it.  And  we  only  surmise  that  he 
has  been  arrested,  and  thrown  the  blame  on  you.  Be- 
fore giving  up  the  game,  would  it  not  be  best  to  be 
satisfied  on  these  points?" 

Paul  felt  a  little  reassured. 

"I  say  nothing,"  continued  Mascarin,  "of  the  in- 
fluence I  exercise  over  Tantaine,  and  which  may  en- 
able me  to  compel  him  to  confess  the  truth." 


"YOU   ARE   A   THIEF"  137 

Weak  natures  like  Paul's  are  raised  in  a  moment 
from  the  lowest  depths  of  depression  to  the  highest 
pitch  of  exultation,  and  he  already  considered  that  he 
was  saved. 

"  Shall  I  ever  be  able  to  prove  my  gratitude  to  you  ?  " 
said  he  impulsively. 

Mascarin's  face  assumed  a  paternal  expression. 

"  Perhaps  you  may,"  answered  he ;  "  and  as  a  com- 
mencement you  must  entirely  forget  the  past.  Daylight 
dispels  the  hideous  visions  of  the  night.  I  offer 
you  a  fresh  lease  of  life;  will  you  become  a  new 
man?" 

Paul  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  "  Rose,"  he  murmured ; 
"  I  cannot  forget  her." 

Mascarin  frowned.  "  What,"  said  he,  "  do  you  still 
let  your  thoughts  dwell  on  that  woman?  There  are 
people  who  cringe  to  the  hand  that  strikes  them,  and 
the  more  they  are  duped  and  deceived,  the  more  they 
love.  If  you  are  made  of  this  kind  of  stuff,  we  shall 
never  get  on.  Go  and  find  your  faithless  mistress,  and 
beg  her  to  come  back  and  share  your  poverty,  and  see 
what  she  will  say." 

These  sarcasms  roused  Paul.  "  I  will  be  even  with 
her  some  day,"  muttered  he. 

"  Forget  her ;  that  is  the  easiest  thing  for  you  to  do." 

Even  now  Paul  seemed  to  hesitate.  "What,"  said 
his  patron  reproachfully,  "  have  you  no  pride  ?  " 

"  I  have,  sir." 

"  You  have  not,  or  you  would  never  wish  to  hamper 
yourself  with  a  woman  like  Rose.  You  should  keep 
your  hands  free,  if  you  want  to  fight  your  way  through 
the  battle  of  life." 

"  I  will  follow  your  advice,  sir,"  said  Paul  hurriedly. 

"  Very  soon  you  will  thank  Rose  deeply  for  having 


138  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

left  you.  You  will  climb  high,  I  can  tell  you,  if  you 
will  work  as  I  bid  you." 

"Then,"  stammered  Paul,  "this  situation  at  twelve 
thousand  francs  a  year " 

"  There  never  has  been  such  a  situation." 

A  ghastly  pallor  overspread  Paul's  countenance,  as 
he  saw  himself  again  reduced  to  beggary. 

"  But,  sir,"  he  murmured,  "  will  you  not  permit  me 
to  hope " 

"  For  twelve  thousand  francs !  Be  at  ease,  you  shall 
have  that  and  much  more.  I  am  getting  old.  I  have 
no  ties  in  the  world — you  shall  be  my  adopted  son." 

A  cloud  settled  on  Paul's  brow,  for  the  idea  that  his 
life  was  to  be  passed  in  this  office  was  most  displeasing 
to  him.  Mascarin  divined  his  inmost  thoughts  with 
perfect  ease.  "And  the  young  fool  does  not  know 
where  to  go  for  a  crust  of  bread,"  thought  he.  "  Ah, 
if  there  were  no  Flavia,  no  Champdoce ; "  then,  speak- 
ing aloud,  he  resumed,  "don't  fancy,  my  dear  boy, 
that  I  wish  to  condemn  you  to  the  treadmill  that  I  am 
compelled  to  pass  my  life  in.  I  have  other  views  for 
you,  far  more  worthy  of  your  merits.  I  have  taken 
a  great  liking  to  you,  and  I  will  do  all  I  can  to 
further  your  ambitious  views.  I  was  thinking  a  great 
deal  of  you,  and  in  my  head  I  raised  the  scaffolding 
of  your  future  greatness.  *  He  is  poor/  said  I,  'and 
at  his  age,  and  with  his  tastes,  this  is  a  cruel  thing. 
Why,  pray,  should  I  not  find  a  wife  for  him  among 
those  heiresses  who  have  a  million  or  two  to  give  the 
man  they  marry?  When  I  talk  like  this,  it  is  because 
I  know  of  an  heiress,  and  my  friend,  Dr.  Hortebise3 
shall  introduce  her  to  you.  She  is  nearly,  if  not  quite, 
as  pretty  as  Rose,  and  has  the  advantage  of  her  in 
Jbeing  well-born,  well-educated,  and  wealthy.  She  has 


"YOU   ARE   A   THIEF"  139 

influential  relatives,  and  if  her  husband  should  happen 
to  be  a  poet,  or  a  composer,  she  could  assist  him  in 
becoming  famous." 

A  flush  came  over  Paul's  face.  This  seemed  like 
the  realization  of  some  of  his  former  dreams. 

"With  regard  to  your  birth/'  continued  Mascarin, 
"  I  have  devised  a  wonderful  plan.  Before  '93,  you 
know,  every  bastard  was  treated  as  a  gentleman,  as  he 
might  have  been  the  son  of  some  high  and  mighty 
personage.  Who  can  say  that  your  father  may  not 
have  been  of  the  noblest  blood  of  France,  and  that  he 
has  not  lands  and  wealth  ?  He  may  even  now  be  look- 
ing for  you,  in  order  to  acknowledge  you  and  make 
you  his  heir.  Would  you  like  to  be  a  duke?" 

"  Ah,  sir,"  stammered  the  young  man. 

Mascarin  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter.  "  Up  to  now," 
said  he,  "  we  are  only  in  the  region  of  suppositions." 

"  Well,  sir,  what  do  you  wish  me  to  do  ? "  asked 
Paul,  after  a  short  pause. 

Mascarin  put  on  a  serious  face.  "I  want  absolute 
obedience  from  you,"  said  he ;  "a  blind  and  undeviat- 
ing  obedience,  one  that  makes  no  objections  and  asks 
no  questions." 

"  I  will  obey  you,  sir ;  but,  oh !  do  not  desert  me." 

Without  making  any  reply,  Mascarin  rang  for  Beau- 
marchef,  and  as  soon  as  the  latter  appeared,  said,  "  I 
am  going  to  Van  Klopen's,  and  shall  leave  you  in 
charge  here."  Then,  turning  to  Paul,  he  added,  "  I 
always  mean  what  I  say;  we  will  go  and  breakfast  at 
a  neighboring  restaurant.  I  want  to  have  a  talk  with 
you,  and  afterward — afterward,  my  boy,  I  will  show 
you  the  girl  I  intend  to  be  your  wife.  I  am  curious 
to  know  how  you  like  her  looks." 


140  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NETj 

CHAPTER   XI. 

THE    MAN-MILLINER. 

GASTON  DE  GANDELU  was  much  surprised  at  finding 
that  Andre  should  be  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  Van 
Klopen,  the  best-known  man  in  Paris.  To  assure 
oneself  of  this,  it  was  only  necessary  to  glance  at  his 
circulars,  which  were  ornamented  with  the  representa- 
tions of  medals  won  at  all  sorts  of  exhibitions  in  differ- 
ent quarters  of  the  world,  together  with  various  dec- 
orations received  from  foreign  potentates.  One  had 
been  presented  to  him  by  the  Queen  of  Spain,  while 
he  had  a  diploma  appointing  him  the  supplier  to  the 
Court  of  the  Czar.  The  great  Van  Klopen  was  not 
an  Alsatian,  as  was  generally  supposed,  but  a  stout, 
handsome  Dutchman,  who,  in  the  year  1850,  had  been 
a  tailor  in  his  small  native  town,  and  manufactured  in 
cloth,  purchased  on  credit,  the  long  waistcoats  and 
miraculous  coats  worn  by  the  wealthy  citizens  of  Rot- 
terdam. Van  Klopen,  however,  was  not  successful  in 
his  business,  and  was  compelled  to  close  his  shop  and 
abscond  from  his  creditors.  He  took  refuge  in  Paris, 
where  he  seemed  likely  to  die  of  hunger.  One  day 
over  a  magnificent  establishment  in  the  Rue  de  Gram- 
mont  appeared  a  signboard  with  the  name  of  Van 
Klopen,  dressmaker,  and  in  the  thousands  of  handbills 
distributed  with  the  utmost  profusion,  he  called  him- 
self the  "  Regenerator  of  Fashion."  This  was  an  idea 
that  would  have  never  originated  in  the  brain  of  the 
phlegmatic  Dutchman,  and  whence  came  the  funds  to 
carry  on  the  business?  On  this  point  he  was  dis- 


THE   MAN-MILLINER  141 

erectly  silent.  The  enterprise  was  at  first  far  from  a 
success,  for  during  nearly  a  month  Paris  almost  split 
its  sides  laughing  at  the  absurd  pretensions  of  the  self- 
dubbed  "  Regenerator  of  Fashion."  Van  Klopen  bent 
before  the  storm  he  had  aroused,  and  in  due  time  his 
advertisements  brought  him  two  customers,  who  were 
the  first  to  blow  the  trumpet  of  his  fame.  One  was  the 
Duchess  de  Suirmeuse,  a  very  great  lady  indeed,  and 
renowned  for  her  eccentricities  and  extravagant  man- 
ner, while  the  other  was  an  example  of  another  class, 
being  no  less  than  the  celebrated  Jennie  Fancy,  who 
was  at  that  time  under  the  protection  of  the  Count 
de  Tremouselle;  and  for  these  two  Van  Klopen  in- 
vented such  dresses  as  had  never  been  seen  before. 
From  this  moment  his  success  was  certain;  indeed,  it 
was  stupendous,  and  Paris  resounded  with  his  praises. 
Now  he  has  achieved  a  world-wide  reputation,  and  has 
nothing  to  fear  from  the  attacks  of  his  rivals.  He 
would  not  execute  orders  for  every  one,  saying  that  he 
must  pick  and  choose  his  customers,  and  he  did  so, 
excising  the  names  of  such  as  he  did  not  think  would 
add  to  his  reputation.  Rank  and  wealth  disputed  the 
honor  of  being  his  customers.  The  haughtiest  dames 
did  not  shrink  from  entrusting  to  him  secrets  of  form 
and  figure,  which  they  even  hid  from  their  husbands. 
They  endured  without  shrinking  the  touch  of  his  coarse 
hands  as  he  measured  them.  He  was  the  rage,  and  his 
showrooms  were  a  species  of  neutral  ground,  where 
women  of  all  circles  of  society  met  and  examined  each 

other.    The  Duchess  of did  not  shrink  from  being 

in  the  same  room  with  the  celebrated  woman  for  whom 

the  Baron  de  had  blown  out  the  few  brains  he 

possessed.  Perhaps  the  Duchess  thought  that  by  em- 
ploying the  same  costumier,  she  might  also  gain  some 


142  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

of    the    venal    beauteous    attractions.      Mademoiselle 

D ,  of  the  Gymnase  Theatre,  who  was  well  known 

to  earn  just  one  thousand  francs  per  annum,  took  a  de- 
light in  astonishing  the  haughty  ladies  of  fashion  by 
the  reckless  extravagance  of  her  orders.  Van  Klopen, 
who  was  a  born  diplomatist,  distributed  his  favors  be-> 
tween  his  different  customers ;  consequently  he  was 
termed  the  most  charming  and  angelic  of  men.  Many 
a  time  had  he  heard  the  most  aristocratic  lips  let  fall 
the  words,  "  I  shall  die,  Van  Klopen,  if  my  dress  is 
not  ready."  On  the  evenings  of  the  most  aristocratic 
balls  a  long  line  of  carriages  blocked  up  the  road  in 
front  of  his  establishment,  and  the  finest  women  in 
Paris  crowded  the  showrooms  for  a  word  of  approval 
from  him. 

He  gave  credit  to  approved  customers,  and  also,  it 
was  whispered,  lent  money  to  them.  But  woe  to  the 
woman  who  permitted  herself  to  be  entrapped  in  the 
snare  of  credit  that  he  laid  for  her;  for  the  woman 
who  owed  him  a  bill  was  practically  lost,  never  know- 
ing to  what  depths  she  might  be  degraded  to  obtain 
the  money  to  settle  her  account.  It  was  not  surprising 
that  such  sudden  prosperity  should  have  turned  Van 
Klopen's  head.  He  was  stout  and  ruddy,  impudent, 
vain,  and  cynical.  His  admirers  said  that  he  was  witty. 

It  was  to  this  man's  establishment  that  Mas- 
carin  conducted  Paul  after  a  sumptuous  breakfast  at 
Philipe's. 

It  is  necessary  to  give  a  slight  description  of  Van 
Klopen's  establishment.  Carpets  of  the  most  expensive 
description  covered  the  stairs  to  his  door  on  the  first 
floor,  at  which  stood  the  liveried  menials  resplendent 
in  gold  lace  and  scarlet.  As  soon  as  Mascarin  made 
his  appearance,  one  of  these  gorgeous  creatures  hast- 


THE   MAN-MILLINER  143 

ened  to  him  and  said,  "  M.  Van  Klopen  is  just  now 
engaged  with  the  Princess  Korasoff,  but  as  soon  as 
he  hears  of  your  arrival  he  will  manage  to  get 
rid  of  her.  Will  you  wait  for  him  in  his  private 
room  ?  " 

But  Mascarin  answered, — 

"  We  are  in  no  hurry,  and  may  as  well  wait  in  the 
public  room  with  the  other  customers.  Are  there  many 
of  them?" 

"  There  are  about  a  dozen  ladies,  sir." 
"  Good ;  I  am  sure  that  they  will  amuse  me." 
And,   without  wasting  any  more  words,   Mascarin 
opened  a  door  which  led  into  a  magnificent  drawing- 
room,  decorated  in  very  florid  style.    The  paper  on  the 
walls  almost  disappeared  beneath  a  variety  of  water- 
color  sketches,   representing  ladies   in  every  possible 
style  of  costume.    Each  picture  had  an  explanatory  note 

beneath  it,  such  as  "  Costume  of  Mde.  de  C for  a 

dinner  at  the  Russian  Ambassador's,"  "  Ball  costume 

of  the  Marchioness  de  V for  a  ball  at  the  Hotel 

de  Ville,"  etc. 

Paul,  who  was  a  little  nervous  at  finding  himself 
among  such  splendor,  hesitated  in  the  doorway;  but 
Mascarin  seized  his  young  friend  by  the  arm,  and,  as 
he  drew  him  to  a  settee,  whispered  in  his  ear, — 
"  Keep  your  eyes  about  you ;  the  heiress  is  here." 
The  ladies  were  at  first  a  little  surprised  at  this  in- 
vasion of  the  room  by  the  male  element,  but  Paul's 
extreme  beauty  soon  attracted  their  attention.  The 
hum  of  conversation  ceased,  and  Paul's  embarrassment 
increased  as  he  found  a  battery  of  twelve  pairs  of  eyes 
directed  full  upon  him. 

Mascarin,  however,  was  quite  at  his  ease,  and  upon 
his  entrance  had  made  a  graceful  though  rather  old- 


144  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

fashioned  bow  to  the  fair  inmates  of  the  room.  His 
coolness  was  partly  due  to  the  contempt  he  felt  for  the 
human  race  in  general,  and  also  to  his  colored  glasses, 
which  hid  the  expression  of  his  countenance.  When  he 
saw  that  Paul  still  kept  his  eyes  on  the  ground,  he 
tapped  him  gently  on  the  arm. 

"  Is  this  the  first  time  you  ever  saw  well-dressed 
women?  Surely  you  are  not  afraid  of  them.  Look  to 
the  right,"  continued  Mascarin,  "  and  you  will  see  the 
heiress/' 

A  young  girl,  not  more  than  eighteen,  was  seated 
near  one  of  the  windows.  She  was  not  perhaps  so 
beautiful  as  Mascarin  had  described,  but  her  face  was 
a  very  striking  one  nevertheless.  She  was  slight  and 
good-looking,  with  the  clear  complexion  of  a  brunette. 
Her  features  were  not  perhaps  very  regular,  but  her 
glossy  black  hair  was  a  beauty  in  itself.  She  had  a 
pair  of  dark,  melting  eyes,  and  her  wide,  high  fore- 
head showed  that  she  was  gifted  with  great  intelli- 
gence. There  was  an  air  of  restrained  voluptuousness 
about  her,  and  she  seemed  the  very  embodiment  of 
passion. 

Paul  felt  insensibly  attracted  toward  her.  Their 
eyes  met,  and  both  started  at  the  same  moment.  Paul 
was  fascinated  in  an  instant,  and  the  girl's  emotion 
was  so  evident  that  she  turned  aside  her  head  to  con- 
ceal it. 

The  babel  had  now  commenced  again,  and  general 
attention  was  being  paid  to  a  lady  who  was  enthusi- 
astically describing  the  last  new  costume  which  had 
made  its  appearance  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne. 

"  It  was  simply  miraculous,"  said  she ;  "  a  real  tri- 
umph of  Van  Klopen's  art.  The  ladies  of  a  certain 
class  are  furious,  and  Henry  de  Croisenois  tells  me 


THE   MAN-MILLINER  145 

that  Jennie  Fancy  absolutely  shed  tears  of  rage.  Im- 
agine three  green  skirts  of  different  shades,  each 
draped " 

Mascarin,  however,  only  paid  attention  to  Paul  and 
the  young  girl,  and  a  sarcastic  smile  curled  his  lips. 

"What  do  you  think  of  her?"  asked  he. 

"  She  is  adorable !  "  answered  Paul,  enthusiastically. 

"And  immensely  wealthy." 

"  I  should  fall  at  her  feet  if  she  had  not  a  sou." 

Mascarin  gave  a  little  cough,  and  adjusted  his  glasses. 

"  Should  you,  my  lad  ?  "  said  he  to  himself ;  "whether 
your  admiration  is  for  the  girl  or  her  money,  you  are 
in  my  grip." 

Then  he  added,  aloud, — 

"  Would  you  not  like  to  know  her  name  ?  " 

"  Tell  me,  I  entreat  you." 

"  Flavia." 

Paul  was  in  the  seventh  heaven,  and  now  boldly 
turned  his  eyes  on  the  girl,  forgetting  that  owing  to 
the  numerous  mirrors,  she  could  see  his  every  move- 
ment. 

The  door  was  at  this  moment  opened  quietly,  and 
Van  Klopen  appeared  on  the  threshold.  He  was  about 
forty-four,  and  too  stout  for  his  height.  His  red, 
pimply  face  had  an  expression  upon  it  of  extreme 
insolence,  and  his  accent  was  thoroughly  Dutch.  He 
was  dressed  in  a  ruby  velvet  dressing-gown,  with  a 
cravat  with  lace  ends.  A  huge  cluster-diamond  ring 
blazed  on  his  coarse,  red  hand. 

"Who  is  the  next  one?"  asked  he,  rudely. 

The  lady  who  had  been  talking  so  volubly  rose  to 
her  feet,  but  the  tailor  cut  her  short,  for,  catching 
sight  of  Mascarin,  he  crossed  the  room,  and  greeted 
him  with  the  utmost  cordiality. 


146  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"What!"  said  he;  "is  it  you  that  I  have  been 
keeping  waiting?  Pray  pardon  me.  Pray  go  into  my 
private  room;  and  this  gentleman  is  with  you?  Do 
me  the  favor,  sir,  to  come  with  us." 

He  was  about  to  follow  his  guests,  when  one  of  the 
ladies  started  forward. 

"  One  word  with  you,  sir,  for  goodness  sake ! "  cried 
she. 

Van  Klopen  turned  sharply  upon  her. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  asked  he. 

"My  bill  for  three  thousand  francs  falls  due  to- 
morrow." 

"Very  likely." 

"  But  I  can't  meet  it." 

"That  is  not  my  affair." 

"I  have  come  to  beg  you  will  renew  it  for  two 
months,  or  say  one  month,  on  whatever  terms  you 
like." 

"  In  two  months,"  answered  the  man  brutally,  "  you 
will  be  no  more  able  to  pay  than  you  are  to-day.  If 
you  can't  pay  it,  it  will  be  noted." 

"  Merciful  powers !  then  my  husband  will  learn  all." 

"  Just  so ;  that  will  be  what  I  want ;  for  he  will  then 
have  to  pay  me." 

The  wretched  woman  grew  deadly  pale. 

"  My  husband  will  pay  you,"  said  she ;  "  but  I  shall 
be  lost." 

"  That  is  not  my  lookout.  I  have  partners  whose 
interests  I  have  to  consult." 

"  Do  not  say  that,  sir !  He  has  paid  my  debts 
once,  and  if  he  should  be  angry  and  take  my  children 
from  me Dear  M.  Van  Klopen,  be  merciful !  " 

She  wrung  her  hands,  and  the  tears  coursed  down 
her  cheeks;  but  the  tailor  was  perfectly  unmoved. 


THE   MAN-MILLINER  147 

"  When  a  woman  has  a  family  of  children,  one  ought 
to  have  in  a  needlewoman  by  the  hour." 

She  did  not  desist  from  her  efforts  to  soften  him, 
and,  seizing  his  hand,  strove  to  carry  it  to  her  lips. 

"  Ah !  I  shall  never  dare  to  go  home,"  wailed  she ; 
"  never  have  the  courage  to  tell  my  husband." 

"  If  you  are  afraid  of  your  own  husband,  go  to  some 
one  else's/'  said  he  roughly;  and  tearing  himself  from 
her,  he  followed  Mascarin  and  Paul. 

"Did  you  hear  that?"  asked  he,  as  soon  as  he  had 
closed  the  door  of  his  room  with  an  angry  slam. 
"  These  things  occasionally  occur,  and  are  not  particu- 
larly pleasant." 

Paul  looked  on  in  disgust.  If  he  had  possessed  three 
thousand  francs,  he  would  have  given  them  to  this 
unhappy  woman,  whose  sobs  he  could  still  hear  in 
the  passage. 

"  It  is  most  painful,"  remarked  he. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  the  tailor,  "  you  attach  too  much 
importance  to  these  hysterical  outbursts.  If  you  were 
in  my  place,  you  would  soon  have  to  put  their  right 
value  on  them.  As  I  said  before,  I  have  to  look  after 
my  own  and  my  partners'  interests.  These  dear  creat- 
ures care  for  nothing  but  dress;  father,  husband,  and 
children  are  as  nothing  in  comparison.  You  cannot 
imagine  what  a  woman  will  do  in  order  to  get  a  new 
dress,  in  which  to  outshine  her  rival.  They  only 
talk  of  their  families  when  they  are  called  on  to 
pay  up." 

Paul  still  continued  to  plead  for  some  money  for 
the  poor  lady,  and  the  discussion  was  getting  so  warm 
that  Mascarin  felt  bound  to  interfere. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  he,  "you  have  been  a  little  hard." 

"  Pooh,"  returned  the  tailor ;  "  I  know  my  customer ; 


148  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

and  to-morrow  my  account  will  be  settled,  and  I  know 
very  well  where  the  money  will  come  from.  Then  she 
will  give  me  another  order,  and  we  shall  have  the 
whole  comedy  over  again.  I  know  what  I  am  about/' 
And  taking  Mascarin  into  the  window,  he  made  some 
confidential  communication,  at  which  they  both  laughed 
heartily. 

Paul,  not  wishing  to  appear  to  listen,  examined  the 
consulting-room,  as  Van  Klopen  termed  it.  He  saw  a 
great  number  of  large  scissors,  yard  measures,  and 
patterns  of  material,  and  heaps  of  fashion  plates. 

By  this  time  the  two  men  had  finished  their  conver- 
sation. 

"  I  had,"  said  Mascarin,  as  they  returned  to  the  fire- 
place, "  I  had  meant  to  glance  through  the  books ;  but 
you  have  so  many  customers  waiting,  that  I  had  better 
defer  doing  so." 

"  Is  that  all  that  hinders  you  ?  "  returned  Van  Klopen, 
carelessly.  "Wait  a  moment." 

He  left  the  room,  and  in  another  moment  his  voice 
was  heard. 

"  I  am  sorry,  ladies,  very  sorry,  on  my  word ;  but 
I  am  busy  with  my  silk  mercer.  I  shall  not  be  very 
long." 

"  We  will  wait,"  returned  the  ladies  in  chorus. 

"  That  is  the  way,"  remarked  Van  Klopen,  as  he 
returned  to  the  consulting-room.  "  Be  civil  to  women, 
and  they  turn  their  backs  on  you;  try  and  keep  them 
off,  and  they  run  after  you.  If  I  was  to  put  up  '  no 
admittance '  over  my  door,  the  street  would  be  blocked 
up  with  women.  Business  has  never  been  better,"  con- 
tinued the  tailor,  producing  a  huge  ledger.  "  Within 
the  last  ten  days  we  have  had  in  orders  amounting  to 
eighty-seven  thousand  francs." 


THE   MAN-MILLINER  149 

"Good!"  answered  Mascarin;  "but  let  us  have  a 
look  at  the  column  headed  '  Doubtful.' " 

"  Here  you  are/'  returned  the  arbiter  of  fashion,  as 
he  turned  over  the  leaves.  "  Mademoiselle  Virginie 
Cluhe  has  ordered  five  theatrical  costumes,  two  dinner, 
and  three  morning  dresses." 

"  That  is  a  heavy  order." 

"  I  wanted  for  that  reason  to  consult  you.  She 
doesn't  owe  us  much — perhaps  a  thousand  francs 
or  so." 

"That  is  too  much,  for  I  hear  that  her  friend  has 
come  to  grief.  Do  not  decline  the  order,  but  avoid 
taking  fresh  ones." 

Van  Klopen  made  a  few  mysterious  signs  in  the 
margin  of  his  ledger. 

"  On  the  6th  of  this  month  the  Countess  de  Mussidan 
gave  us  an  order — a  perfectly  plain  dress  for  her 
daughter.  Her  account  is  a  very  heavy  one,  and  the 
Count  has  warned  us  that  he  will  not  pay  it." 

"  Never  mind  that.  Go  on  with  the  order,  but  press 
for  payment." 

"  On  the  7th  a  new  customer  came — Mademoiselle 
Flavia,  the  daughter  of  Martin  Rigal,  the  banker." 

When  Paul  heard  this  name,  he  could  not  repress  a 
start,  of  which,  however,  Mascarin  affected  to  take  no 
notice. 

"  My  good  friend,"  said  he,  turning  to  Van  Klopen, 
"  I  confide  this  young  lady  to  you ;  give  her  your  whole 
stock  if  she  asks  for  it." 

By  the  look  of  surprise  which  appeared  upon  the 
tailor's  face,  Paul  could  see  that  Mascarin  was  not 
prodigal  of  such  recommendations. 

"  You  shall  be  obeyed,"  said  Van  Klopen,  with  a 
bow. 


150  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  On  the  8th  a  young  gentleman  of  the  name  of 
Gaston  de  Gandelu  was  introduced  by  Lupeaux,  the 
jeweller.  His  father  is,  I  hear,  very  wealthy,  and  he 
will  come  into  money  on  attaining  his  majority,  which 
is  near  at  hand.  He  brought  with  him  a  lady/'  con- 
tinued the  tailor,  "and  said  her  name  was  Zora  de 
Chantemille,  a  tremendously  pretty  girl." 

"  That  young  man  is  always  in  my  way,"  said  Mas- 
carin.  "  I  would  give  something  to  get  him  out  of 
Paris." 

Van  Klopen  reflected  for  a  moment.  "  I  don't  think 
that  would  be  difficult,"  remarked  he ;  "  that  young  fel- 
low is  capable  of  any  act  of  folly  for  that  fair  girl." 

"  I  think  so  too." 

"Then  the  matter  is  easy.  I  will  open  an  account 
with  him;  then,  after  a  little,  I  will  affect  doubts  as  to 
his  solvency,  and  ask  for  a  bill;  and  we  shall  then 
place  our  young  friend  in  the  hands  of  the  Mutual  Loan 
Society,  and  M.  Verminet  will  easily  persuade  him  to 
write  his  name  across  the  bottom  of  a  piece  of  stamped 
paper.  He  will  bring  it  to  me ;  I  will  accept  it,  and  then 
we  shall  have  him  hard  and  fast." 

"I  should  have  proposed  another  course." 

"  I  see  no  other  way,  however."  He  suddenly 
stopped,  for  a  loud  noise  was  heard  in  the  ante-room, 
and  the  sound  of  voices  in  loud  contention. 

"I  should  like  to  know,"  said  Van  Klopen,  rising 
to  his  feet,  "  who  the  impudent  scoundrel  is,  who 
comes  here  kicking  up  a  row.  I  expect  that  it  is  some 
fool  of  a  husband." 

"Go  and  see  what  it  is,"  suggested  Mascarin. 

"Noi  I!  My  servants  are  paid  to  spare  me  such 
annoyances." 

Presently  the  noise  ceased. 


THE   MAN-MILLINER  151 

'*  And  now,"  resumed  Mascarin,  "  let  us  return  to 
our  own  affairs.  Under  the  circumstances,  your  proposal 
appears  to  be  a  good  one.  How  about  writing  in  an- 
other name?  A  little  forgery  would  make  our  hands 
stronger."  He  rose,  and  taking  the  tailor  into  the  win- 
dow recess,  again  whispered  to  him. 

During  this  conversation  Paul's  cheek  had  grown 
paler  and  paler,  for,  occupied  as  he  was,  he  could  not 
fail  to  comprehend  something  of  what  was  going  on. 
During  the  breakfast  Mascarin  had  partially  disclosed 
many  strange  secrets,  and  since  then  he  had  been  even 
more  enlightened.  It  was  but  too  evident  to  him  that 
his  protector  was  engaged  in  some  dark  and  insidious 
plot,  and  Paul  felt  that  he  was  standing  over  a  mine 
which  might  explode  at  any  moment.  He  now  began 
to  fancy  that  there  was  some  mysterious  link  between 
the  woman  Schimmel,  who  was  so  carefully  watched, 
and  the  Marquis  de  Ooisenois,  so  haughty,  and  yet 
on  such  intimate  terms  with  the  proprietor  of  the  reg- 
istry office.  Then  there  was  the  Countess  de  Mussi- 
dan,  Flavia,  the  rich  heiress,  and  Gaston  de  Gandelu, 
who  was  to  be  led  into  a  crime  the  result  of  which 
would  be  penal  servitude, — all  jumbled  and  mixed  up 
together  in  one  strange  phantasmagoria.  Was  he,  Paul, 
to  be  a  mere  tool  in  such  hands?  Toward  what  a 
precipice  was  he  being  impelled!  Mascarin  and  Van 
Klopen  were  not  friends,  as  he  had  at  first  supposed, 
but  confederates  in  villainy.  Too  late  did  he  begin  to 
see  collusion  between  Mascarin  and  Tantaine,  which 
had  resulted  in  his  being  accused  of  theft  during  his 
absence.  But  the  web  had  been  woven  too  securely, 
and  should  he  struggle  to  break  through  it,  he  might 
find  himself  exposed  to  even  more  terrible  dangers. 
He  felt  horrified  at  his  position,  but  with  this  there  was 


152  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

mingled  no  horror  of  the  criminality  of  his  associates, 
for  the  skilful  hand  of  Mascarin  had  unwound  and 
mastered  all  the  bad  materials  of  his  nature.  He  was 
dazzled  at  the  glorious  future  held  out  before  him,  and 
said  to  himself  that  a  man  like  Mascarin,  unfettered 
by  law,  either  human  or  Divine,  would  be  most  likely 
to  achieve  his  ends.  "I  should  be  in  no  danger/' 
mused  he  to  himself,  "  if  I  yield  myself  up  to  the  im- 
petuous stream  which  is  already  carrying  me  along,  for 
Mascarin  is  practised  swimmer  enough  to  keep  both 
my  head  and  his  own  above  water." 

Little  did  Paul  think  that  every  fleeting  expression 
in  his  countenance  was  caught  up  and  treasured  by  the 
wily  Mascarin;  and  it  was  intentionally  that  he  had 
permitted  Paul  to  listen  to  this  compromising  conversa- 
tion. He  had  decided  that  very  morning,  that  if  Paul 
was  to  be  a  useful  tool,  he  must  be  at  once  set  face  to 
face  with  the  grim  realities  of  the  position. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  for  the  really  serious  reason  for 
my  visit.  How  do  we  stand  now  with  regard  to  the 
Viscountess  Bois  Arden  ?  " 

Van  Klopen  gave  his  shoulders  a  shrug  as  he  an- 
swered, "  She  is  all  right.  I  have  just  sent  her  several 
most  expensive  costumes." 

"  How  much  does  she  owe  you  ?  " 

"  Say  twenty-five  thousand  francs.  She  has  owed 
us  more  than  that  before." 

"Really,"  remarked  Mascarin,  "that  woman  has 
been  grossly  libelled;  she  is  vain,  frivolous,  and  fond 
of  admiration,  but  nothing  more.  For  a  whole  fort- 
night I  have  been  prying  into  her  life,  but  I  can't  hit 
upon  anything  in  it  to  give  us  a  pull  over  her.  The 
debt  may  help  us,  however.  Does  her  husband  know 
that  she  has  an  account  with  us  ? " 


THE   MAN-MILLINER  153 

"  Of  course  he  does  not ;  he  is  most  liberal  to  her, 
and  if  he  inquired " 

"  Then  we  are  all  right ;  we  will  send  in  the  bill  to 
him." 

"  But,  my  good  sir,"  urged  Van  Klopen,  "  it  was 
only  last  week  that  she  paid  us  a  heavy  sum  on  ac- 
count/' 

"  The  more  reason  to  press  her,  for  she  must  be 
hard  up." 

Van  Klopen  would  have  argued  further,  but  an  im- 
perious sign  from  Mascarin  reduced  him  to  silence. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  said  Mascarin,  "  and  please  do  not 
interrupt  me.  Are  you  known  to  the  domestics  at  the 
house  of  the  Viscountess  ?  " 

«  Not  at  all." 

"Well,  then,  at  three  o'clock  sharp,  the  day  after 
to-morrow,  call  on  her.  Her  footman  will  say  that 
Madame  has  a  visitor  with  her." 

"  I  will  say  I  will  wait." 

"  Not  at  all.  You  must  almost  force  your  way  in, 
and  you  will  find  the  Viscountess  talking  to  the  Mar- 
quis de  Croisenois.  You  know  him,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  By  sight — nothing  more." 

"That  is  sufficient.  Take  no  notice  of  him;  but  at 
once  present  your  bill,  and  violently  insist  upon  im- 
mediate payment." 

"  What  can  you  be  thinking  of  ?  She  will  have  me 
kicked  out  of  doors." 

"  Quite  likely ;  but  you  must  threaten  to  take  the 
bill  to  her  husband.  She  will  command  you  to  leave 
the  house,  but  you  will  sit  down  doggedly  and  declare 
that  you  will  not  move  until  you  get  the  money." 

"  But  that  is  most  unbusinesslike  behavior." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you ;  but  the  Marquis  de  Croise- 


154  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

nois  will  interfere;  he  will  throw  a  pocketbook  in  your 
face,  exclaiming,  '  There  is  your  money,  you  impudent 
scoundrel ! ' " 

"  Then  I  am  to  slink  away  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  before  doing  so,  you  will  give  a  receipt  in 
this  form — '  Received  from  the  Marquis  de  Croisenois, 
the  sum  of  so  many  francs,  in  settlement  of  the  account 
of  the  Viscountess  Bois  Arden/  " 

"  If  I  could  only  understand  the  game,"  muttered 
the  puzzled  Van  Klopen. 

"There  is  no  necessity  for  that  now;  only  act  up 
to  your  instructions." 

"  I  will  obey,  but  remember  that  we  shall  not 
only  lose  her  custom,  but  that  of  all  her  acquaint- 
ance." 

Again  the  same  angry  sounds  were  heard  in  the  cor- 
ridor. ' 

"  It  is  scandalous,"  cried  a  voice.  "  I  have  been 
waiting  an  hour;  my  sword  and  armor.  What,  ho, 
lackeys ;  hither,  I  say.  Van  Klopen  is  engaged,  is  he  ? 
Hie  to  him  and  say  I  must  sefe  him  at  once." 

The  two  accomplices  exchanged  looks,  as  though 
they  recognized  the  shrill,  squeaky  voice. 

"  That  is  our  man,"  whispered  Mascarin,  as  the  door 
was  violently  flung  open,  and  Gaston  de  Gandelu  burst 
in.  He  was  dressed  even  more  extravagantly  than 
usual,  and  his  face  was  inflamed  with  rage. 

"  Here  am  I,"  cried  he ;  "  and  an  awful  rage  I  am 
in.  Why,  I  have  been  waiting  twenty  minutes.  I  don't 
care  a  curse  for  your  rules  and  regulations." 

The  tailor  was  furious  at  this  intrusion ;  but  as  Mas- 
carin was  present,  and  he  felt  that  he  must  respect  his 
orders,  he  by  a  great  effort  controlled  himself. 


THE   MAN-MILLINER  155 

"  Had  I  known,  sir,"  said  he  sulkily,  "  that  you  were 
here " 

These  few  words  mollified  the  gorgeous  youth,  who 
at  once  broke  in. 

"  I  accept  your  apologies/'  cried  he ;  "  the  lackeys 
remove  our  arms,  the  joust  is  over.  My  horses  have 
been  standing  all  this  time,  and  may  have  taken  cold. 
Of  course  you  have  seen  my  horses.  Splendid  animals, 
are  they  not  ?  Zora  is  in  the  other  room.  Quick,  fetch 
her  here." 

With  these  words  he  rushed  into  the  passage  and 
shouted  out,  "Zora,  Mademoiselle  de  Chantemille,  my 
dear  one,  come  hither." 

The  renowned  tailor  was  exquisitely  uncomfortable 
at  so  terrible  a  scene  in  his  establishment.  He  cast  an 
appealing  glance  at  Mascarin,  but  the  face  of  the  agent 
seemed  carved  in  marble.  As  to  Paul,  he  was  quite 
prepared  to  accept  this  young  gentleman  as  a  perfect 
type  of  the  glass  of  fashion  and  the  mould  of  form,  and 
could  not  forbear  pitying  him  in  his  heart.  He  went 
across  the  room  to  Mascarin. 

"Is  there  no  way,"  whispered  he,  "of  saving  this 
poor  young  fellow  ?  " 

Mascarin  smiled  one  of  those  livid  smiles  which 
chilled  the  hearts  of  those  who  knew  him  thoroughly. 

"  In  fifteen  minutes,"  said  he,  "  I  will  put  the  same 
question  to  you,  leaving  you  to  reply  to  it.  Hush,  this 
is  the  first  real  test  that  you  have  been  subjected  to;  if 
you  are  not  strong  enough  to  go  through  it,  then  we 
had  better  say  farewell.  Be  firm,  for  a  thunderbolt  is 
about  to  fall  t " 

The  manner  in  which  these  apparently  trivial  words 
were  spoken  startled  Paul,  who,  by  a  strong  effort, 


156  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

recovered  his  self-possession ;  but,  prepared  as  he  was, 
it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  he  stifled  the  ex- 
pression of  rage  and  surprise  that  rose  to  his  lips  at 
the  sight  of  the  woman  who  entered  the  room.  The 
Madame  de  Chantenr.lle,  the  Zora  of  the  youthful  Gan- 
delu,  was  there,  attired  in  what  to  his  eyes  seemed  a 
most  dazzling  costume.  Rose  seemed  a  little  timid  as 
Gandelu  almost  dragged  her  into  the  room. 

"  How  silly  you  are ! "  said  he.  "  What  is  there  to 
be  frightened  at?  He  is  only  in  a  rage  with  his  flunkies 
for  having  kept  us  waiting." 

Zora  sank  negligently  into  an  easy  chair,  and  the 
gorgeously  attired  youth  addressed  the  all-powerful 
Van  Klopen. 

"Well,  have  you  invented  a  costume  that  will  be 
worthy  of  Madame's  charms  ?  " 

For  a  few  moments  Van  Klopen  appeared  to  be 
buried  in  profound  meditation. 

"  Ah,"  said  he,  raising  his  hand  with  a  grandiloquent 
gesture,  "  I  have  it ;  I  can  see  it  all  in  my  mind's  eye." 

"  What  a  man ! "  murmured  Gaston  in  deep  admira- 
tion. 

"Listen,"  resumed  the  tailor,  his  eye  flashing  with 
the  fire  of  genius.  "  First,  a  walking  costume  with  a 
polonaise  and  a  cape  a  la  pensionnaire ;  bodice,  sleeves, 
and  underskirt  of  a  brilliant  chestnut " 

He  might  have  continued  in  this  strain  for  a  long 
time,  and  Zora  would  not  have  heard  a  word,  for  she 
had  caught  sight  of  Paul,  and  in  spite  of  all  her  au- 
dacity, she  nearly  fainted.  She  was  so  ill  at  ease,  that 
young  Gandelu  at  last  perceived  it;  but  not  knowing 
the  effect  that  the  appearance  of  Paul  would  necessarily 
cause,  and  being  also  rather  dull  of  comprehension  he 
could  not  understand  the  reason  for  it. 


THE   MAN-MILLINER  157 

"Hold  hard,  Van  Klopen,  hold  hard!  the  joy  has 
been  too  much  for  her,  and  I  will  lay  you  ten  to  one 
that  she  is  going  into  hysterics." 

Mascarin  saw  that  Paul's  temper  might  blaze  forth 
at  any  moment,  and  so  hastened  to  put  an  end  to  a 
scene  which  was  as  absurd  as  it  was  dangerous. 

"Well,  Van  Klopen,  I  will  say  farewell,"  said  he. 
"  Good  morning,  madame ;  good  morning,  sir ; "  and 
taking  Paul  by  the  arm,  he  led  him  away  by  a  private 
exit  which  did  not  necessitate  their  passing  through  the 
great  reception-room. 

It  was  time  for  him  to  do  so,  and  not  until  they  were 
in  the  street  did  the  wily  Mascarin  breathe  freely. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  say,  now  ?  "  asked  he. 

Paul's  vanity  had  been  so  deeply  wounded,  and  the 
effort  that  he  had  made  to  restrain  himself  so  powerful, 
that  he  could  only  reply  by  a  gasp. 

"He  felt  it  more  than  I  thought  he  would/'  said 
Mascarin  to  himself.  "  The  fresh  air  will  revive 
him." 

Paul's  legs  bent  under  him,  and  he  staggered  so  that 
Mascarin  led  him  into  a  little  cafe  hard  by,  and  ordered 
a  glass  of  cognac,  and  in  a  short  time  Paul  was  him- 
self once  again. 

"  You  are  better  now,"  observed  Mascarin ;  and  then, 
believing  it  would  be  best  to  finish  his  work,  he  added, 
"  A  quarter  of  an  hour  ago  I  promised  that  I  would 
ask  you  to  settle  what  our  intentions  were  to  be  regard- 
ing M.  de  Gandelu." 

"  That  is  enough,"  broke  in  Paul,  violently. 

Mascarin  put  on  his  most  benevolent  smile. 

"  You  see,"  remarked  he,  "  how  circumstances 
change  ideas.  Now  you  are  getting  quite  reasonable." 

"  Yes,  I  am  reasonable  enough  now ;  that  is,  that  I 


158  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

mean  to  be  wealthy.  You  have  no  need  to  urge  me  on 
any  more.  I  am  willing  to  do  whatever  you  desire, 
for  I  will  never  again  endure  degradation  like  that  I 
have  gone  through  to-day." 

"  You  have  let  temper  get  the  better  of  you,"  re- 
turned Mascarin,  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders. 

"My  anger  may  pass  over,  but  my  determination 
will  remain  as  strong  as  ever." 

"  Do  not  decide  without  thinking  the  matter  well 
over,"  answered  the  agent.  "  To-day  you  are  your 
own  master;  but  if  you  give  yourself  up  to  me,  you 
must  resign  your  dearly  loved  liberty." 

"  I  am  prepared  for  all." 

Victory  had  inclined  to  the  side  of  Mascarin,  and  he 
was  proportionally  jubilant. 

"  Good,"  said  he.  "  Then  Dr.  Hortebise  shall  intro- 
duce you  to  Martin  Rigal,  the  father  of  Mademoiselle 
Flavia,  and  one  week  after  your  marriage  I  will  give 
you  a  duke's  coronet  to  put  on  the  panels  of  your 
carriage." 


CHAPTER   XII. 

A  STARTLING  REVELATION. 

WHEN  Sabine  de  Mussidan  told  her  lover  that  she 
would  appeal  to  the  generosity  of  M.  de  Breulh-Faver- 
lay,  she  had  not  calculated  on  the  necessity  she  would 
have  for  endurance,  but  had  rather  listened  to  the  dic- 
tates of  her  heart ;  and  this  fact  came  the  more  strongly 
before  her,  when,  in  the  solitude  of  her  own  chamber, 
she  inquired  of  herself  how  she  was  to  carry  out  her 


A   STARTLING   REVELATION          159 

promise.  It  seemed  to  her  very  terrible  to  have  to 
lay  bare  the  secrets  of  her  soul  to  any  one,  but  the 
more  so  to  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay,  who  had  asked  for 
her  hand  in  marriage.  She  uttered  no  word  on  her 
way  home,  where  she  arrived  just  in  time  to  take  her 
place  at  the  dinner  table,  and  never  was  a  more  dismal 
company  assembled  for  the  evening  meal.  Her  own 
miseries  occupied  Sabine,  and  her  father  and  mother 
were  suffering  from  their  interviews  with  Mascarin 
and  Dr.  Hortebise.  What  did  the  liveried  servants, 
who  waited  at  table  with  such  an  affectation  of  inter- 
est, care  for  the  sorrows  of  their  master  or  mistress? 
They  were  well  lodged  and  well  fed,  and  nothing  save 
their  wages  did  they  care  for.  By  nine  o'clock  Sabine 
was  in  her  own  room  trying  to  grow  accustomed  to 
the  thoughts  of  an  interview  with  M.  de  Breulh-Faver- 
lay.  She  hardly  closed  her  eyes  all  night,  and  felt 
worn  out  and  dispirited  by  musing;  but  she  never 
thought  of  evading  the  promise  she  had  made  to  Andre, 
or  of  putting  it  off  for  a  time.  She  had  vowed  to 
lose  no  time,  and  her  lover  was  eagerly  awaiting  a  let- 
ter from  her,  telling  him  of  the  result.  In  the  perplex- 
ity in  which  she  found  herself,  she  could  not  confide  in 
either  father  or  mother,  for  she  felt  that  a  cloud  hung 
over  both  their  lives,  though  she  knew  not  what  it 
was.  When  she  left  the  convent  where  she  had  been 
educated,  and  returned  home,  she  felt  that  she  was  in 
the  way,  and  that  the  day  of  her  marriage  would  be 
one  of  liberation  to  her  parents  from  their  cares  and  re- 
sponsibilities. All  this  preyed  terribly  upon  her  mind, 
and  might  have  driven  a  less  pure-minded  girl  to  des- 
perate measures.  It  seemed  to  her  that  it  would  be 
less  painful  to  fly  from  her  father's  house  than  to  have 
this  interview  with  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay.  Luckily 


160  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

for  her,  frail  as  she  looked,  she  possessed  an  indomit- 
able will,  and  this  carried  her  through  most  of  her 
difficulties. 

For  Andre's  sake,  as  well  as  her  own,  she  did  not 
wish  to  violate  any  of  the  unwritten  canons  of  society, 
but  she  longed  for  the  hour  to  come  when  she  could 
acknowledge  her  love  openly  to  the  world.  At  one 
moment  she  thought  of  writing  a  letter,  but  dismissed 
the  thought  as  the  height  of  folly.  As  the  time  passed 
Sabine  began  to  reproach  herself  for  her  cowardice. 
All  at  once  she  heard  the  clang  of  the  opening  of  the 
main  gates.  Peeping  from  her  window,  she  saw  a 
carriage  drive  up,  and,  to  her  inexpressible  delight,  M. 
de  Breulh-Faverlay  alighted  from  it. 

"  Heaven  has  heard  my  prayer,  and  sent  him  to  me," 
murmured  she. 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  do,  Mademoiselle  ?  "  asked 
the  devoted  Modeste;  "will  you  speak  to  him 
now?" 

"Yes,  I  will.  My  mother  is  still  in  her  dressing- 
room,  and  no  one  will  venture  to  disturb  my  father 
in  the  library.  If  I  meet  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay  in  the 
hall  and  take  him  into  the  drawing-room,  I  shall  have 
time  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  talk,  and  that  will  be 
sufficient." 

Calling  up  all  her  courage,  she  left  her  room  on  her 
errand.  Had  Andre  seen  the  man  selected  by  the  Count 
de  Mussidan  for  his  daughter's  husband,  he  might 
well  have  been  proud  of  her  preference  for  him.  M. 
de  Breulh-Faverlay  was  one  of  the  best  known  men  in 
Paris,  and  fortune  had  showered  all  her  blessings  on 
his  head.  He  was  not  forty,  of  an  extremely  aristo- 
cratic appearance,  highly  educated,  and  witty;  and,  in 
addition,  one  of  the  largest  landholders  in  the  country. 


A   STARTLING   REVELATION          161 

He  had  always  refused  to  enter  public  life.  "  For/'  he 
would  say  to  those  who  spoke  to  him  on  the  matter, 
u  I  have  enough  to  spend  my  money  on  without  making 
myself  ridiculous."  He  was  a  perfect  type  of  what  a 
French  gentleman  should  be — courteous,  of  unblem- 
ished reputation,  and  full  of  chivalrous  devotion  and 
generosity.  He  was,  it  is  said,  a  great  favorite  with 
the  fair  sex;  but,  if  report  spoke  truly,  his  discretion 
was  as  great  as  his  success.  He  had  not  always  been 
wealthy,  and  there  was  a  mysterious  romance  in  his 
life.  When  he  was  only  twenty,  he  had  sailed  for 
South  America,  where  he  remained  twelve  years,  and 
returned  no  richer  than  he  was  before;  but  shortly 
afterward  his  aged  uncle,  the  Marquis  de  Faverlay, 
died,  bequeathing  his  immense  fortune  to  his  nephew 
on  the  condition  that  he  should  add  the  name  of  Faver- 
lay to  that  of  De  Breulh.  De  Breulh  was  passionately 
fond  of  horses ;  but  he  was  really  a  lover  of  them,  and 
not  a  mere  turfite,  and  this  was  all  that  the  world  knew 
of  the  man  who  held  in  his  hands  the  fates  of  Sabine  de 
Mussidan  and  Andre.  As  soon  as  he  caught  sight  of 
Sabine  he  made  a  profound  inclination. 

The  girl  came  straight  up  to  him. 

"  Sir,"  said  she,  in  a  voice  broken  by  conflicting  emo- 
tions, "may  I  request  the  pleasure  of  a  short  private 
conversation  with  you  ?  " 

"  Mademoiselle,"  answered  De  Breulh,  concealing 
his  surprise  beneath  another  bow,  "  I  am  at  your  dis- 
posal." 

One  of  the  footmen,  at  a  word  from  Sabine,  threw 
open  the  door  of  the  drawing-room  in  which  the 
Countess  had  thrown  down  her  arms  in  her  duel  with 
Dr.  Hortebise.  Sabine  did  not  ask  her  visitor  to  be 
seated,  but,  leaning  her  elbow  on  the  marble  mantel- 


162  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

piece,  she  said,  after  a  silence  equally  trying  to 
both,— 

"This  strange  conduct  on  my  part,  sir,  will  show 
you,  more  than  any  explanation,  my  sincerity,  and  the 
perfect  confidence  with  which  you  have  inspired  me." 

She  paused,  but  De  Breulh  made  no  reply,  for  he 
was  perfectly  mystified. 

"  You  are,"  she  continued,  "  my  parents'  intimate 
friend,  and  must  have  seen  the  discomforts  of  our  do- 
mestic hearth,  and  that  though  both  my  father  and 
mother  are  living,  I  am  as  desolate  as  the  veriest 
orphan/' 

Fearing  that  M.  de  Breulh  might  not  understand 
her  reason  for  speaking  thus,  she  threw  a  shade  of 
haughtiness  into  her  manner  as  she  resumed, — 

"  My  reason,  sir,  for  seeing  you  to-day  is  to  ask, — 
nay,  to  entreat  you,  to  release  me  from  my  engage- 
ment to  you,  and  to  take  the  whole  responsibility  of 
the  rupture  on  yourself." 

Man  of  the  world  as  he  was,  M.  de  Breulh  could  not 
conceal  his  surprise,  in  which  a  certain  amount  of 
wounded  self-love  was  mingled. 

"  Mademoiselle !  "  commenced  he — 

Sabine  interrupted  him. 

"I  am  asking  a  great  favor,  and  your  granting  it 
will  spare  me  many  hours  of  grief  and  sadness,  and," 
she  added,  as  a  faint  smile  flickered  across  her  pallid 
features,  "  I  am  aware  that  I  am  asking  but  a  trifling 
sacrifice  on  your  part.  You  know  scarcely  anything 
of  me,  and  therefore  you  can  only  feel  indifference  to- 
ward me." 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  replied  the  young  man  gravely ; 
"and  you  do  not  judge  me  rightly.  I  am  not  a  mere 
boy,  and  always  consider  a  step  before  I  take  it;  and 


A   STARTLING  REVELATION          163 

if  I  asked  for  your  hand,  it  was  because  I  had  learned 
to  appreciate  the  greatness  both  of  your  heart  and  in- 
tellect; and  I  believe  that  if  you  would  condescend  to 
accept  me,  we  could  be  very  happy  together." 

The  girl  seemed  about  to  speak,  but  De  Breulh  con- 
tinued,— 

"It  seems,  however,  that  I  have  in  some  way  dis- 
pleased you, — I  do  not  know  how;  but,  believe  me,  it 
will  be  a  source  of  sorrow  to  me  for  the  rest  of  my 
life." 

De  Breulh's  sincerity  was  so  evident,  that  Mademoi- 
selle de  Mussidan  was  deeply  affected. 

"  You  have  not  displeased  me  in  any  way,"  answered 
she  softly,  "  and  are  far  too  good  for  me.  To  have 
become  your  wife  would  have  made  me  a  proud  and 
happy  woman." 

Here  she  stopped,  almost  choked  by  her  tears,  but 
M.  de  Breulh  wished  to  fathom  this  mystery. 

"Why  then  this  resolve?"  asked  he. 

"  Because,"  replied  Sabine  faintly,  as  she  hid  her 
face, — "  because  I  have  given  all  my  love  to  another." 

The  young  man  uttered  an  exclamation  so  full  of 
angry  surprise,  that  Sabine  turned  upon  him  at  once. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  she,  "  to  another ;  one  utterly 
unknown  to  my  parents,  yet  one  who  is  inexpressibly 
dear  to  me.  This  ought  not  to  irritate  you,  for  I  gave 
him  my  love  long  before  I  met  you.  Besides,  you  have 
every  advantage  over  him.  He  is  at  the  foot,  while 
you  are  at  the  summit,  of  the  social  ladder.  You  are 
of  aristocratic  lineage, — he  is  one  of  the  people.  You 
have  a  noble  name, — he  does  not  even  know  his  own. 
Your  wealth  is  enormous, — while  he  works  hard  for 
his  daily  bread.  He  has  all  the  fire  of  genius,  but  the 
cruel  cares  of  life  drag  and  fetter  him  to  the  earth. 


164  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

He  carries  on  a  workman's  trade  to  supply  funds  to 
study  his  beloved  art." 

Incautiously,  Sabine  had  chosen  the  very  means  to 
wound  this  noble  gentleman  most  cruelly,  for  her  whole 
beauty  blazed  out  as,  inflamed  by  her  passion,  she 
spoke  so  eloquently  of  Andre  and  drew  such  a  parallel 
between  the  two  young  men. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  she,  "  do  you  comprehend  me  ?  I 
know  the  terrible  social  abyss  which  divides  me  from 
the  man  I  love,  and  the  future  may  hold  in  store  some 
terrible  punishment  for  my  fidelity  to  him,  but  no 
one  shall  ever  hear  a  word  of  complaint  from  my 
lips,  for "  she  hesitated,  and  then  uttered  these  sim- 
ple words — "for  I  love  him." 

M.  de  Breulh  listened  with  an  outwardly  impassible 
face,  but  the  venomed  tooth  of  jealousy  was  gnawing 
at  his  heart.  He  had  not  told  Sabine  the  entire  truth, 
for  he  had  studied  her  for  a  long  time,  and  his  love 
had  grown  firm  and  strong.  Without  an  unkind 
thought  the  girl  had  shattered  the  edifice  which  he  had 
built  up  with  such  care  and  pain.  He  would  have  given 
his  name,  rank,  and  title  to  have  been  in  this  un- 
known lover's  place,  who,  though  he  worked  for  his 
bread,  and  had  no  grand  ancestral  name,  was  yet  so 
fondly  loved.  Many  a  man  in  his  position  would  have 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  coldly  sneered  at  the  words, 
"  I  love  him,"  but  he  did  not,  for  his  nature  was 
sufficiently  noble  to  sympathize  with  hers.  He  admired 
her  courage  and  frankness,  which,  disdaining  all  sub- 
terfuges, went  straight  and  unhesitatingly  to  the  point 
she  desired  to  reach.  She  might  be  imprudent  and 
reckless,  but  in  his  eyes  these  seemed  hardly  to  be 
faults,  for  it  is  seldom  that  convent-bred  young  ladies 
err  in  this  way. 


A   STARTLING   REVELATION          165 

"  But  this  man,"  said  he,  after  a  long  pause,— "  how 
do  you  manage  ever  to  see  him  ?  " 

"  I  meet  him  out  walking,"  replied  she,  "  and  I  some- 
times go  to  his  studio." 

"To  his  studio?" 

"Yes,  I  have  sat  to  him  several  times  for  my  por- 
trait ;  but  I  have  never  done  anything  that  I  need  blush 
to  own.  You  know  all  now,  sir,"  continued  Sabine; 
"  and  it  has  been  very  hard  for  a  young  girl  like  me  to 
say  all  this  to  you.  It  is  a  thing  that  ought  to  be  con- 
fided to  my  mother." 

Only  those  who  have  heard  a  woman  that  they  are 
ardently  attached  to  say,  "  I  do  not  love  you,"  can  pic- 
ture M.  de  Breulh's  frame  of  mind.  Had  any  one 
else  than  Sabine  made  this  communication  he  would 
not  have  withdrawn,  but  would  have  contested  the 
prize  with  his  more  fortunate  rival.  But  now  that 
Mademoiselle  de  Mussidan  had,  as  it  were,  thrown 
herself  upon  his  mercy,  he  could  not  bring  himself  to 
take  advantage  of  her  confidence. 

"It  shall  be  as  you  desire,"  said  he,  with  a  faint 
tinge  of  bitterness  in  his  tone.  "  To-night  I  will  write 
to  your  father,  and  withdraw  my  demand  for  your 
hand.  It  is  the  first  time  that  I  have  ever  gone  back 
from  my  word;  and  I  am  sure  that  your  father  will 
be  highly  indignant." 

Sabine's  strength  and  firmness  had  now  entirely  de- 
serted her.  "From  the  depth  of  my  soul,  sir,"  said 
she,  "  I  thank  you ;  for  by  this  act  of  generosity  I  shall 
avoid  a  contest  that  I  dreaded." 

"Unfortunately,"  broke  in  De  Breulh,  "you  do  not 
see  how  useless  to  you  will  be  the  sacrifice  that  you 
exact  from  me.  Listen !  you  have  not  appeared  much 
in  society;  and  when  you  did,  it  was  in  the  character 


166  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

of  my  betrothed;  as  soon  as  I  withdraw  hosts  of 
aspirants  for  your  hand  will  spring  up." 

Sabine  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  for  Andre  had  foreseen 
the  same  result. 

"  Then,"  continued  De  Breulh,  "  your  situation  will 
become  even  a  more  trying  one;  for  if  your  noble 
qualities  are  not  enough  to  excite  admiration  in  the 
bosoms  of  the  other  sex,  your  immense  wealth  will 
arouse  the  cupidity  of  the  fortune-hunters." 

When  De  Breulh  referred  to  fortune-hunters,  was 
this  a  side  blow  at  Andre  ?  With  this  thought  rushing 
through  her  brain,  she  gazed  upon  him  eagerly,  but 
read  no  meaning  in  his  eyes. 

"  Yes,"  answered  she  dreamily,  "  it  is  true  that  I 
am  very  wealthy." 

"  And  what  will  be  your  reply  to  the  next  suitor,  and 
to  the  one  after  that  ?  "  asked  De  Breulh. 

"  I  know  not ;  but  I  shall  find  some  loophole  of  escape 
when  the  time  comes;  for  if  I  act  in  obedience  to 
the  dictates  of  my  heart  and  conscience,  I  cannot  do 
wrong,  for  Heaven  will  come  to  my  aid." 

This  phrase  sounded  like  a  dismissal ;  but  De  Breulh, 
man  of  the  world  as  he  was,  did  not  accept  it. 

"May  I  permit  myself  to  offer  you  a  word  of  ad- 
vice?" 

"Do  so,  sir." 

"  Very  well,  then ;  why  not  permit  matters  to  remain 
as  they  now  are?  So  long  as  our  rupture  is  not  public 
property,  so  long  will  you  be  left  in  peace.  It  would 
be  the  simplest  thing  in  the  world  to  postpone  all  de- 
cisive steps  for  a  twelvemonth,  and  I  would  withdraw 
as  soon  as  you  notified  me  that  it  was  time." 

Sabine  put  every  confidence  in  this  proposal,  be- 
lieving that  everything  was  in  good  faith.  "  But,"  said 


A   STARTLING  REVELATION          167 

she,  "such  a  subterfuge  would  be  unworthy  of  us 
all." 

M.  de  Breulh  did  not  urge  this  point;  a  feeling  of 
deep  sympathy  had  succeeded  to  his  wounded  pride; 
and,  with  all  the  chivalrous  instinct  of  his  race,  he 
determined  to  do  his  best  to  assist  these  lovers. 

"Might  I  be  permitted,"  asked  he,  "now  that  you 
have  placed  so  much  confidence  in  me,  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  the  man  whom  you  have  honored 
with  your  love  ?  " 

Sabine  colored  deeply.  "  I  have  no  reason  to  con- 
ceal anything  from  you:  his  name  is  Andre,  he  is  a 
painter,  and  lives  in  the  Rue  de  la  Tour  d'Auvergne." 

De  Breulh  made  a  mental  note  of  the  name,  and  con- 
tinued,— 

"  Do  not  think  that  I  ask  this  question  from  mere 
idle  curiosity;  my  only  desire  is  to  aid  you.  I  should 
be  glad  to  be  a  something  in  your  life.  I  have  influ- 
ential friends  and  connections " 

Sabine  was  deeply  wounded.  Did  this  man  propose 
patronizing  Andre,  and  thus  place  his  position  and 
wealth  in  contrast  with  that  of  the  obscure  painter? 
In  his  eagerness  De  Breulh  had  made  a  false  move. 

"  I  thank  you,"  answered  she  coldly ;  "  but  Andre  is 
very  proud,  and  any  offer  of  assistance  would  wound 
him  deeply.  Forgive  my  scruples,  which  are  perhaps 
exaggerated  and  absurd.  All  he  has  of  his  own  are 
his  self-respect  and  his  natural  pride." 

As  she  spoke,  Sabine  rang  the  bell,  to  show  her 
visitor  that  the  conversation  was  at  an  end. 

"  Have  you  informed  my  mother  of  M.  de  Breulh- 
Faverlay's  arrival?"  asked  she,  as  the  footman  ap- 
peared at  the  door. 

"  I  have  not,  mademoiselle ;  for  both  the  Count  ancl 


168  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Countess  gave  the  strictest  order  that  they  were  not 
to  be  disturbed  on  any  pretext  whatsoever." 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  that  before  ?  "  demanded 
M.  de  Breulh;  and,  without  waiting  for  any  explana- 
tion, he  bowed  gravely  to  Sabine,  and  quitted  the  room, 
after  apologizing  for  his  involuntary  intrusion,  and  by 
his  manner  permitted  all  the  domestics  to  see  that  he 
was  much  put  out. 

"  Ah !  "  sighed  Sabine,  "  that  man  is  worthy  of  some 
good  and  true  woman's  affection." 

As  she  was  about  to  leave  the  room,  she  heard  some 
one  insisting  upon  seeing  the  Count  de  Mussidan.  Not 
being  desirous  of  meeting  strangers,  she  remained 
where  she  was.  The  servant  persisted  in  saying  that 
his  master  could  receive  no  one. 

"  What  do  I  care  for  your  orders  ?  "  cried  the  visitor ; 
"  your  master  would  never  refuse  to  see  his  friend  the 
Baron  de  Clinchain ; "  and,  thrusting  the  lackey  on  one 
side,  he  entered  the  drawing-room;  and  his  agitation 
was  so  great  that  he  hardly  noticed  the  presence  of 
the  young  girl. 

M.  de  Clinchain  was  a  thoroughly  commonplace  look- 
ing personage  in  face,  figure,  and  dress,  neither  tall 
nor  short,  handsome  nor  ill-looking.  The  only  notice- 
able point  in  his  attire  was  that  he  wore  a  coral  hand 
on  his  watch  chain;  for  the  Baron  was  a  firm  believer 
in  the  evil  eye.  When  a  young  man,  he  was  most 
methodical  in  his  habits;  and,  as  he  grew  older,  this 
became  an  absolute  mania  with  him.  When  he  was 
twenty,  he  recorded  in  his  diary  the  pulsations  of  his 
heart,  and  at  forty  he  added  remarks  regarding  his 
digestion  and  general  health. 

"  What  a  fearful  blow  !  "  murmured  he ;  "  and  to 
fall  at  such  a  moment  when  I  had  indulged  in  a  more 


A   STARTLING   REVELATION          169 

hearty  dinner  than  usual.  I  shall  feel  it  for  the  next 
six  months,  even  if  it  does  not  kill  me  outright." 

Just  then  M.  de  Mussidan  entered  the  room,  and  the 
excited  man  ran  up  to  him,  exclaiming, — 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Octave,  save  us  both,  by  can- 
celling your  daughter's  engagement  with  M.  de " 

The  Count  laid  his  hand  upon  his  friend's  lips. 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  "  said  he ;  "  my  daughter  is  here." 

In  obedience  to  a  warning  gesture,  Sabine  left  the 
room ;  but  she  had  heard  enough  to  fill  her  heart  with 
agitation  and  terror.  What  engagement  was  to  be  can- 
celled, and  how  could  such  a  rupture  affect  her  father 
or  his  friend?  That  there  was  some  mystery,  was 
proved  by  the  question  with  which  the  Count  had 
prevented  his  friend  from  saying  any  more.  She  was 
sure  that  it  was  the  name  of  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay 
with  which  the  Baron  was  about  to  close  his  sentence, 
and  felt  that  the  destiny  of  her  life  was  to  be  decided 
in  the  conversation  about  to  take  place  between  her 
father  and  his  visitor.  It  was  deep  anxiety  that  she 
felt,  not  mere  curiosity ;  and  while  these  thoughts  passed 
through  her  brain,  she  remembered  that  she  could  hear 
all  from  the  card-room,  the  doorway  of  which  was 
only  separated  from  the  drawing-room  by  a  curtain. 
With  a  soft,  gliding  step  she  gained  her  hiding-place 
and  listened  intently.  The  Baron  was  still  pouring 
out  his  lamentations. 

"  What  a  fearful  day  this  has  been ! "  groaned  the 
unhappy  man.  "  I  ate  much  too  heavy  a  breakfast,  I 
have  been  terribly  excited,  and  came  here  a  great  deal 
too  fast.  A  fit  of  passion  caused  by  a  servant's  in- 
solence, joy  at  seeing  you,  then  a  sudden  interruption 
to  what  I  was  going  to  say,  are  a  great  deal  more  than 
sufficient  to  cause  a  serious  illness  at  my  age." 


170  CAUGHT    IN   THE    NET 

But  the  Count,  who  was  usually  most  considerate  of 
his  friend's  foibles,  was  not  in  a  humor  to  listen  to 
him. 

"  Come,  let  us  talk  sense,"  said  he  sharply ;  "  tell  me 
what  has  occurred." 

"  Occurred !  "  groaned  De  Clinchain ;  "  oh,  nothing, 
except  that  the  whole  truth  is  known  regarding  what 
took  place  in  the  little  wood  so  many  years  back.  I 
had  an  anonymous  letter  this  morning,  threatening  me 
with  all  sorts  of  terrible  consequences  if  I  do  not  hinder 
you  from  marrying  your  daughter  to  De  Breulh.  The 
rogues  say  that  they  can  prove  everything." 

"  Have  you  the  letter  with  you  ?  " 

De  Clinchain  drew  the  missive  from  his  pocket.  It 
was  to  the  full  as  threatening  as  he  had  said;  but  M. 
de  Mussidan  knew  all  its  contents  beforehand. 

"  Have  you  examined  your  diary,  and  are  the  three 
leaves  really  missing?" 

"They  are." 

"How  were  they  stolen?  Are  you  sure  of  your 
servants  ?  " 

"  Certainly ;  my  valet  has  been  sixteen  years  in  my 
service.  You  know  Lorin?  The  volumes  of  my  diary 
are  always  locked  up  in  the  escritoire,  the  key  of  which 
never  leaves  me.  And  none  of  the  other  servants  ever 
enter  my  room." 

"  Some  one  must  have  done  so,  however." 

Clinchain  struck  his  forehead,  as  though  an  idea 
had  suddenly  flashed  across  his  brain. 

"  I  can  partly  guess,"  said  he.  "  Some  time  ago 
Lorin  went  for  a  holiday,  and  got  drunk  with  some 
fellows  he  picked  up  in  the  train.  Drink  brought  on 
fighting,  and  he  was  so  knocked  about  that  he  was  laid 


A   STARTLING   REVELATION          171 

up  for  some  weeks.  He  had  a  severe  knife  wound  in 
the  shoulder,  and  was  much  bruised." 

"Who  took  his  place?" 

"  A  young  fellow  that  my  groom  got  at  a  servants' 
registry  office." 

M.  de  Mussidan  felt  that  he  was  on  the  right  track, 
for  he  remembered  that  the  man  who  had  called  on 
him  had  had  the  audacity  to  leave  a  card,  on  which 
was  marked: 

"B.  MASCARIN, 
Servants'  Registry  Office, 

Rue  MontorgueiL" 

"  Do  you  know  where  this  place  is  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  Certainly ;  in  the  Rue  du  Dauphin  nearly  opposite 
to  my  house." 

The  Count  swore  a  deep  oath.  "The  rogues  are 
very  wily;  but,  my  dear  fellow  if  you  are  ready,  we 
will  defy  the  storm  together." 

De  Clinchain  felt  a  cold  tremor  pass  through  his 
whole  frame  at  this  proposal. 

"Not  I,"  said  he;  "do  not  try  and  persuade  me. 
If  you  have  come  to  this  decision,  let  me  know  at  once, 
and  I  will  go  home  and  finish  it  all  with  a  pistol 
bullet." 

He  was  just  the  sort  of  nervous,  timorous  man  to 
do  exactly  as  he  said,  and  would  sooner  have  killed 
himself  than  endure  all  kinds  of  annoyance,  which 
might  impair  his  digestion. 

"Very  well,"  answered  his  friend,  with  sullen  resig- 
nation, "then  I  will  give  in." 

De  Clinchain  heaved  a  deep  sigh  of  relief,  for  he, 
not  knowing  what  had  passed  before,  had  expected  to 


172  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

have  had  a  much  more  difficult  task  in  persuading  his 
friend. 

"  You  are  acting  like  a  reasonable  man  for  once  in 
your  life,"  said  he. 

"You  think  so,  because  I  give  ear  to  your  timorous 
advice.  A  thousand  curses  on  that  idiotic  habit  of 
yours  of  putting  on  paper  not  only  your  own  secrets, 
but  those  of  others." 

But  at  this  remark  Clinchain  mounted  his  hobby. 

"Do  not  talk  like  that,"  said  he.  "Had  you  not 
committed  the  act,  it  would  not  have  appeared  in  my 
diary." 

Chilled  to  the  very  bone,  and  quivering  like  an  aspen 
leaf,  Sabine  had  listened  to  every  word.  The  reality 
was  even  more  dreadful  than  she  had  dreamed  of. 
There  was  a  hidden  sorrow,  a  crime  in  her  father's  past 
life. 

Again  the  Count  spoke.  "  There  is  no  use  in  re- 
crimination. We  cannot  wipe  out  the  past,  and  must, 
therefore,  submit.  I  promise  you,  on  my  honor,  that 
this  day  I  will  write  to  De  Breulh,  and  tell  him  that 
this  marriage  must  be  given  up." 

These  words  threw  the  balm  of  peace  and  safety 
into  De  Clinchain's  soul,  but  the  excess  of  joy  was  too 
much  for  him,  and  murmuring,  "  Too  much  breakfast, 
and  the  shock  of  too  violent  an  emotion,"  he  sank 
back,  fainting,  on  a  couch. 

The  Count  de  Mussidan  was  terrified;  he  pulled  the 
bell  furiously,  and  the  domestics  rushed  in,  followed 
by  the  Countess.  Restoratives  were  applied,  and  in 
ten  minutes  the  Baron  opened  one  eye,  and  raised  him- 
self on  his  elbow. 

"  I  am  better  now,"  said  he,  with  a  faint  smile.  "  It 
is  weakness  and  dizziness.  I  know  what  I  ought  to 


HUSBAND   AND  WIFE  173 

take — two  spoonfuls  of  eau  des  carmes  in  a  glass  of 
sugar  and  water,  with  perfect  repose  of  both  mind  and 
body.  Fortunately,  my  carriage  is  here.  Pray,  be 
prudent,  Mussidan."  And,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of 
one  of  the  lackeys,  he  staggered  feebly  out,  leaving 
the  Count  and  Countess  alone,  and  Sabine  still  listen- 
ing from  her  post  of  espial  in  the  card-room. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

HUSBAND     AND     WIFE. 

EVER  since  Mascarin's  visit,  the  Count  de  Mussidan 
had  been  in  a  deplorable  state  of  mind.  Forgetting  the 
injury  to  his  foot,  he  passed  the  night  pacing  up  and 
down  the  library,  cudgelling  his  brains  for  some  means 
of  breaking  the  meshes  of  the  net  in  which  he  was  en- 
tangled. He  knew  the  necessity  for  immediate  action, 
for  he  felt  sure  that  this  demand  would  only  be  the 
forerunner  of  numerous  others  of  a  similar  character. 
He  thought  over  and  dismissed  many  schemes.  Some- 
times he  had  almost  decided  to  go  to  the  police  authori- 
ties and  make  a  clean  breast;  then  the  idea  of  placing 
the  affair  in  the  hands  of  a  private  detective  occurred 
to  him ;  but  the  more  he  deliberated,  the  more  he  real- 
ized the  strength  of  the  cord  that  bound  him,  and  the 
scandal  which  exposure  would  cause.  This  long  course 
of  thought  had  in  some  measure  softened  the  bitter- 
ness of  his  wrath,  and  he  was  able  to  receive  his  old 
friend  M.  de  Clinchain  with  some  degree  of  calmness. 
He  was  not  at  all  surprised  at  the  receipt  of  the 
anonymous  letter, — indeed,  he  had  expected  that  a  blow 


174  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

would  be  struck  in  that  direction.  Still  immersed  in 
thought,  M.  de  Mussidan  hardly  took  heed  of  his 
wife's  presence,  and  he  still  paced  the  room,  uttering 
a  string  of  broken  phrases.  This  excited  the  attention 
of  the  Countess,  for  her  own  threatened  position  caused 
her  to  be  on  the  alert. 

"  What  is  annoying  you,  Octave  ? "  asked  she. 
"  Surely,  not  M.  de  Clinchain's  attack  of  indiges- 
tion?" 

For  many  years  the  Count  had  been  accustomed  to 
that  taunting  and  sarcastic  voice,  but  this  feeble  joke 
at  such  a  moment  was  more  than  he  could  endure. 

"  Don't  address  me  in  that  manner/'  said  he  angrily. 

"What  is  the  matter — are  you  not  well?" 

"Madame!" 

"  Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  tell  me  what  has 
taken  place?" 

The  color  suffused  the  Count's  face,  and  his  rage 
burst  forth  the  more  furiously  from  his  having  had  to 
suppress  it  so  long;  and  coming  to  a  halt  before  the 
chair  in  which  the  Countess  was  lounging,  his  eyes 
blazing  with  hate  and  anger,  he  exclaimed, — 

"  All  I  wish  to  tell  you  is,  that  De  Breulh-Faverlay 
shall  not  marry  our  daughter." 

Madame  de  Mussidan  was  secretly  delighted  at  this 
reply,  for  it  showed  her  that  half  the  task  required  of 
her  by  Dr.  Hortebise  had  been  accomplished  without 
her  interference;  but  in  order  to  act  cautiously,  she 
began  at  once  to  object,  for  a  woman's  way  is  always 
at  first  to  oppose  what  she  most  desires. 

"  You  are  laughing  at  me,  Count ! "  said  she. 
"  Where  can  we  hope  to  find  so  good  a  match  again  ?  " 

"You  need  not  be  afraid,"  returned  the  Count,  with 
a  sneer: 


HUSBAND   AND   WIFE  175 

These  words  sent  a  pang  through  the  heart  of  the 
Countess.  Was  it  an  allusion  to  the  past?  or  had  the 
phrase  dropped  from  her  husband's  lips  accidentally? 
or  had  he  any  suspicion  of  the  influence  that  had  been 
brought  to  bear  upon  her?  She,  however,  had  plenty 
of  courage,  and  would  rather  meet  misfortune  face  to 
face  than  await  its  corning  in  dread. 

"Of  what  other  son-in-law  are  you  speaking?" 
asked  she  negligently.  "  Has  any  other  suitor  present- 
ed himself?  May  I  ask  his  name?  Do  you  intend  to 
settle  my  child's  future  without  consulting  me  ?  " 

"  I  do,  madame." 

A  contemptuous  smile  crossed  the  face  of  the 
Countess,  which  goaded  the  Count  to  fury. 

"  Am  I  not  the  master  here  ?  "  exclaimed  he  in  ac- 
cents of  intense  rage.  "  Am  I  not  driven  to  the  exer- 
cise of  my  power  by  the  menaces  of  a  pack  of  villains 
who  have  wormed  out  the  hidden  secrets  which  have 
overshadowed  my  life  from  my  youth  upward?  They 
can,  if  they  desire,  drag  my  name  through  the  mire 
of  infamy." 

Madame  de  Mussidan  bounded  to  her  feet,  asking 
herself  whether  her  husband's  intellect  had  not  given 
way. 

"  You  commit  a  crime ! "  gasped  she. 

"  I,  madame,  I,  myself !  Does  that  surprise  you  ? 
Have  you  never  had  any  suspicion  ?  Perhaps  you  have 
not  forgotten  a  fatal  accident  which  took  place  out 
shooting,  and  darkened  the  earlier  years  of  our  mar- 
ried life?  Well,  the  thing  was  not  an  accident,  but  a 
deliberate  murder  committed  by  me.  Yes,  I  mur- 
dered him,  and  this  fact  is  known,  and  can  be 
proved." 

The  Countess  grew  deadly  pale,  and  extended  her 


176  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

hand,  as  though  to  guard  herself  from  some  coming 
danger. 

"  You  are  horrified,  are  you  ?  "  continued  the  Count, 
with  a  sneer.  "Perhaps  I  inspire  you  with  horror; 
but  do  not  fear;  the  blood  is  no  longer  on  my  hands, 
but  it  is  here,  and  is  choking  me."  And  as  he  spoke 
he  pressed  his  fingers  upon  his  heart.  "  For  twenty- 
three  years  I  have  endured  this  hideous  recollection, 
and  even  now  when  I  wake  in  the  night  I  am  bathed 
in  cold  sweat,  for  I  fancy  I  can  hear  the  last  gasps  of 
the  unhappy  man." 

"  This  is  horrible,  too  horrible !  "  murmured  Madame 
de  Mussidan  faintly. 

"  Ah,  but  you  do  not  know  why  I  killed  him, — it  was 
because  the  dead  man  had  dared  to  tell  me  that  the  wife 
that  I  adored  with  all  the  passion  of  my  soul  was  un- 
faithful to  me." 

Words  of  eager  denial  rose  to  the  lips  of  the 
Countess ;  but  her  husband  went  on  coldly,  "  And  it 
was  all  true,  for  I  heard  all  later  on. 

"  Poor  Montlouis !  he  was  really  loved.  There  was 
a  little  shop-girl,  who  toiled  hard  for  daily  bread,  but 
she  was  a  thousand  times  more  honorable  than  the 
haughty  woman  of  noble  race  that  I  had  just  married." 

"  Have  mercy,  Octave." 

"  Yes,  and  she  fell  a  victim  to  her  love  for  Montlouis. 
Had  he  lived,  he  would  have  made  her  his  wife.  After 
his  death,  she  could  no  longer  conceal  her  fault.  In 
small  towns  the  people  are  without  mercy;  and  when 
she  left  the  hospital  with  her  baby  at  her  breast,  the 
women  pelted  her  with  mud.  But  for  me,"  continued 
the  Count,  "  she  would  have  died  of  hunger.  Poor 
girl !  I  did  not  allow  her  much,  but  with  it  she  man- 
aged to  give  her  son  a  decent  education.  He  has  now 


HUSBAND   AND   WIFE  177 

grown  up,  and  whatever  happens,  his  future  is 
safe." 

Had  M.  de  Mussidan  and  his  wife  been  less  deeply 
engaged  in  this  hideous  recital,  they  would  have  heard 
the  stifled  sobs  that  came  from  the  adjoining  room. 

The  Count  felt  a  certain  kind  of  savage  pleasure  in 
venting  the  rage,  that  had  for  years  been  suppressed, 
upon  the  shrinking  woman  before  him.  "  Would  it  not 
be  a  cruel  injustice,  madame,  to  draw  a  comparison  be- 
tween you  and  this  unhappy  girl?  Have  you  always 
been  deaf  to  the  whisperings  of  conscience?  and  have 
you  never  thought  of  the  future  punishment  which 
most  certainly  awaits  you?  for  you  have  failed  in  the 
duties  of  daughter,  wife,  and  mother." 

Generally  the  Countess  cared  little  for  her  husband's 
reproaches,  well  deserved  as  they  might  be,  but  to-day 
she  quailed  before  him. 

"With  your  entrance  into  my  life/'  continued  the 
Count,  "came  shame  and  misfortune.  When  people 
saw  you  so  gay  and  careless  under  the  oak-trees  of 
your  ancestral  home,  who  could  have  suspected  that 
your  heart  contained  a  dark  secret?  When  my  only 
wish  was  to  win  you  for  my  wife,  how  did  I  know 
that  you  were  weaving  a  hideous  conspiracy  against 
me?  Even  when  so  young,  you  were  a  monster  of 
dissimulation  and  hypocrisy.  Guilt  never  overshadowed 
your  brow,  nor  did  falsehood  dim  the  frankness  of 
your  eyes.  On  the  day  of  our  marriage  I  mentally 
reproached  myself  for  my  unworthiness.  Wretched 
fool  that  I  was,  I  was  happy  beyond  all  power  of  ex- 
pression, when  you,  madame,  completed  the  measure  of 
your  guilt  by  adding  infidelity  to  it." 

"  It  is  false,"  murmured  the  Countess.  a  You  have 
been  deceived." 


178  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

M.  de  Mussidan  laughed  a  grim  and  terrible  laugh. 

"  Not  so,"  answered  he ;  "  I  have  every  proof.  This 
seems  strange  to  you,  does  it  ?  You  have  always  looked 
upon  me  as  one  of  those  foolish  husbands  that  may  be 
duped  without  suspicion  on  their  parts.  You  thought 
that  you  had  placed  a  veil  over  my  eyes,  but  I  could 
see  through  it  when  you  little  suspected  that  I  could 
do  so.  Why  did  I  not  tell  you  this  before?  Be- 
cause I  had  not  ceased  to  love  you,  and  this  fatal  love 
was  stronger  than  all  honor,  pride,  and  even  self- 
respect."  He  poured  out  this  tirade  with  inconceiv- 
able rapidity,  and  the  Countess  listened  to  it  in  awe- 
struck silence.  "  I  kept  silence/'  continued  the  Count, 
"because  I  knew  that  on  the  day  I  uttered  the  truth 
you  would  be  entirely  lost  to  me.  I  might  have  killed 
you;  I  had  every  right  to  do  so,  but  I  could  not  live 
apart  from  you.  You  will  never  know  how  near  the 
shadow  of  death  has  been  to  you.  When  I  have  kissed 
you,  I  have  fancied  that  your  lips  were  soiled  with  the 
kisses  of  others,  and  I  could  hardly  keep  my  hands 
from  clutching  your  ivory  neck  until  life  was  extinct, 
and  failed  utterly  to  decide  whether  I  loved  you  or 
hated  you  the  most." 

"Have  mercy,  Octave!  have  mercy!"  pleaded  the 
unhappy  woman. 

"You  are  surprised,  I  can  see,"  answered  he,  with 
a  dark  smile ;  "  yet  I  could  give  you  further  food  for 
wonder  if  I  pleased,  but  I  have  said  enough  now." 

A  tremor  passed  over  the  frame  of  the  Countess. 
Was  her  husband  acquainted  with  the  existence  of  the 
letters  ?  All  hinged  upon  this.  He  could  not  have  read 
them,  or  he  would  have  spoken  in  very  different  terms, 
had  he  known  the  mystery  contained  in  them. 

"  Let  me  speak,"  began  she. 


HUSBAND   AND   WIFE  179 

"  Not  a  word,"  replied  her  husband. 

"  On  my  honor " 

"  All  is  ended ;  but  I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you  of 
one  of  my  youthful  follies.  You  may  laugh  at  it,  but 
that  signifies  nothing.  I  actually  believed  that  I  could 
gain  your  affection.  I  said  to  myself  that  one  day  you 
would  be  moved  by  my  deep  passion  for  you.  I  was 
a  fool.  As  if  love  or  affection  could  ever  penetrate 
the  icy  barriers  that  guarded  your  heart." 

"  You  have  no  pity,"  wailed  she. 

He  gazed  upon  her  with  eyes  in  which  the  pent-up 
anger  of  twenty  years  blazed  and  consumed  slowly. 
"  And  you,  what  are  you  ?  I  drained  to  the  bottom  the 
poisoned  cup  held  out  to  a  deceived  husband  by  an 
unfaithful  wife.  Each  day  widened  the  breach  be- 
tween us,  until  at  last  we  sank  into  this  miserable  ex- 
istence which  is  wearing  out  my  life.  I  kept  no  watch 
on  you;  I  was  not  made  for  a  jailer.  What  I  wanted 
was  your  soul  and  heart.  To  imprison  the  body  was 
easy,  but  your  soul  would  still  have  been  free  to  wander 
in  imagination  to  the  meeting-place  where  your  lover 
expected  you.  I  know  not  how  I  had  the  courage  to 
remain  by  your  side.  It  was  not  to  save  an  honor  that 
had  already  gone,  but  merely  to  keep  up  appearances ; 
for  as  long  as  we  were  nominally  together  the  tongue 
of  scandal  was  forced  to  remain  silent/' 

Again  the  unhappy  woman  attempted  to  protest  her 
innocence,  and  again  the  Count  paid  no  heed  to  her. 
"  I  wished  too,"  resumed  he,  "  to  save  some  portion  of 
our  property,  for  your  insatiable  extravagance  swal- 
lowed up  all  like  a  bottomless  abyss.  At  last  your 
trades-people,  believing  me  to  be  ruined,  refused  you 
credit,  and  this  saved  me.  I  had  my  daughter  to  think 
of,  and  have  gathered  together  a  rich  dowry  for  her, 


180  CAUGHT   IN    THE    NET 

and  yet "  he  hesitated,  and  ceased  speaking  for  a 

moment. 

"And  yet/'  repeated  Madame  de  Mussidan. 

"I  have  never  kissed  her,"  he  burst  forth  with  a 
fresh  and  terrible  explosion  of  wrath,  "  without  feeling 
a  hideous  doubt  as  to  whether  she  was  really  my  child." 

This  was  more  than  the  Countess  could  endure. 

"  Enough/'  she  cried,  "  enough !  I  have  been  guilty, 
Octave;  but  not  so  guilty  as  you  imagine." 

"  Why  do  you  venture  to  defend  yourself  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  my  duty  to  guard  Sabine." 

"  You  should  have  thought  of  this  earlier/'  answered 
the  Count  with  a  sneer.  "You  should  have  moulded 
her  mind — have  taught  her  what  was  noble  and  good, 
and  have  perused  the  unsullied  pages  of  the  book  of 
her  young  heart." 

In  the  deepest  agitation  the  Countess  answered, — 

"Ah,  Octave,  why  did  you  not  speak  of  this  sooner, 
if  you  knew  all ;  but  I  will  now  tell  you  everything." 

By  an  inconceivable  error  of  judgment  the  Count 
corrected  her  speech.  "  Spare  us  both,"  said  he.  "  If 
I  have  broken  through  the  silence  that  I  have  main- 
tained for  many  a  year,  it  is  because  I  know  that  no 
word  you  could  utter  would  touch  my  heart." 

Feeling  that  all  hope  had  fled,  Madame  de  Mussidan 
fell  backward  upon  the  couch,  while  Sabine,  unable  to 
listen  to  any  more  terrible  revelations,  had  crept  into 
her  own  chamber.  The  Count  was  about  to  leave  the 
drawing-room,  when  a  servant  entered,  bearing  a  letter 
on  a  silver  salver.  De  Mussidan  tore  it  open;  it  was 
from  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay,  asking  to  be  released 
from  his  engagement  to  Sabine  de  Mussidan.  This  last 
stroke  was  almost  too  much  for  the  Count's  nerves, 
for  in  this  act  he  saw  the  hand  of  the  man  who  had 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER  181 

come  to  him  with  such  deadly  threats,  and  terror  filled 
his  soul  as  he  thought  of  the  far-stretching  arm  of  him 
whose  bondslave  he  found  himself  to  be;  but  before 
he  could  collect  his  thoughts,  his  daughter's  maid  went 
into  the  room  crying  with  all  her  might,  "  Help,  help; 
my  poor  mistress  is  dying ! " 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

FATHER  AND  DAUGHTER. 

VAN  KLOPEN,  the  man-milliner,  knew  Paris  and  its 
people  thoroughly  like  all  tradesmen  who  are  in  the 
habit  of  giving  large  credit.  He  knew  all  about  the 
business  of  his  customers,  and  never  forgot  an  item  of 
information  when  he  received  one.  Thus,  when  Mas- 
carin  spoke  to  him  about  the  father  of  the  lovely  Flavia, 
whose  charms  had  set  the  susceptible  heart  of  Paul 
Violaine  in  a  blaze,  the  arbiter  of  fashion  had  replied, — 
"  Martin  Rigal ;  yes,  I  know  him ;  he  is  a  banker." 
And  a  banker,  indeed,  Martin  Rigal  was,  dwelling  in  a 
magnificent  house  in  the  Rue  Montmartre.  The  bank 
was  on  the  ground  floor,  while  his  private  rooms  were 
in  the  story  above.  Though  he  did  not  do  business  in 
a  very  large  way,  yet  he  was  a  most  respectable  man, 
and  his  connection  was  chiefly  with  the  smaller  trades- 
people, who  seem  to  live  a  strange  kind  of  hand-to- 
mouth  existence,  and  who  might  be  happy  were  it  not 
for  the  constant  reappearance  of  that  grim  phantom — 
bills  to  be  met.  Nearly  all  these  persons  were  in  the 
banker's  hands  entirely.  Martin  Rigal  used  his  power 
despotically  and  permitted  no  arguments,  and  speedily 


182  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

quelled  rebellion  on  the  part  of  any  new  customer  who 
ventured  to  object  to  his  arbitrary  rules.  In  the  morn- 
ing the  banker  was  never  to  be  seen,  being  engaged 
in  his  private  office,  and  not  a  clerk  would  venture  to 
knock  at  his  door.  Even  had  one  done  so,  no  reply 
would  have  been  returned;  for  the  experiment  had 
been  tried,  and  it  was  believed  that  nothing  short  of 
an  alarm  of  fire  would  have  brought  him  out. 

The  banker  was  a  big  man,  quite  bald,  his  face  was 
clean  shaved,  and  his  little  gray  eyes  twinkled  inces- 
santly. His  manner  was  charmingly  courteous,  and 
he  said  the  most  cruel  things  in  the  most  honied  accents, 
and  invariably  escorted  to  the  door  the  man  whom  he 
would  sell  up  the  next  day.  In  his  dress  he  affected 
a  fashionable  style,  much  used  by  the  modern  school 
of  Shylocks.  When  not  in  business,  he  was  a  pleas- 
ant, and,  as  some  say,  a  witty  companion.  He  was 
not  looked  on  as  an  ascetic,  and  did  not  despise  those 
little  pleasures  which  enable  us  to  sustain  life's  tor- 
tuous journey.  He  liked  a  good  dinner,  and  had  always 
a  smile  ready  for  a  young  and  attractive  face.  He 
was  a  widower,  and  all  his  love  was  concentrated  on 
his  daughter.  He  did  not  keep  a  very  extravagant 
establishment,  but  the  report  in  the  neighborhood  was 
that  Mademoiselle  Flavia,  the  daughter  of  the  eminent 
banker,  would  one  day  come  into  millions.  The  banker 
always  did  his  business  on  foot,  for  the  sake  of  his 
health,  as  he  said;  but  Flavia  had  a  sweet  little  Vic- 
toria, drawn  by  two  thoroughbred  horses,  to  drive  in 
the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  under  the  protection  of  an  old 
woman,  half  companion  and  half  servant,  who  was 
driven  half  mad  by  her  charge's  caprices.  As  yet  her 
father  has  never  denied  her  anything.  He  worked 
harder  than  all  his  clerks  put  together,  for,  after  having 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER  183 

spent  the  morning  in  his  counting  house  over  his  papers, 
he  received  all  business  clients. 

On  the  day  after  Flavia  and  Paul  Violaine  had  met 
at  Van  Klopen's,  M.  Martin  Rigal  was,  at  about  half- 
past  five,  closeted  with  one  of  his  female  clients.  She 
was  young,  very  pretty,  and  dressed  with  simple  ele- 
gance, but  the  expression  of  her  face  was  profoundly 
melancholy.  Her  eyes  were  overflowing  with  tears, 
which  she  made  vain  efforts  to  restrain. 

"  If  you  refuse  to  renew  our  bill,  sir,  we  are  ruined," 
said  she.  "  I  could  meet  it  in  January.  I  have  sold 
all  my  trinkets,  and  we  are  existing  on  credit." 

"  Poor  little  thing !  "  interrupted  the  banker. 

Her  hopes  grew  under  these  words  of  pity. 

"  And  yet,"  continued  she,  "  business  has  never  been 
so  brisk.  New  customers  are  constantly  coming  in, 
and  though  our  profits  are  small,  the  returns  are  rapid." 

As  Martin  Rigal  heard  her  exposition  of  the  state 
of  affairs,  he  nodded  gravely. 

"That  is  all  very  well,"  said  he  at  last,  "but  this 
does  not  make  the  security  you  offer  me  of  any  more 
value.  I  have  more  confidence  in  you." 

"But  remember,  sir,  that  we  have  thirty  thousand 
francs'  worth  of  stock." 

"  That  is  not  what  I  was  alluding  to,"  and  the  banker 
accompanied  these  words  with  so  meaning  a  look,  that 
the  poor  woman  blushed  scarlet  and  almost  lost  her 
nerve.  "Your  stock,"  said  he,  "is  of  no  more  value 
in  my  eyes  than  the  bill  you  offer  me.  Suppose,  for 
instance,  you  were  to  become  bankrupt,  the  landlord 
might  come  down  upon  everything,  for  he  has  great 
power." 

He  broke  off  abruptly,  for  Flavia's  maid,  as  a  privi- 
leged person,  entered  the  room  without  knocking. 


184  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  Sir,"  said  she,  "  my  mistress  wishes  to  see  you  at 
once/' 

The  banker  got  up  directly.  "  I  am  coming,"  said 
he;  then,  taking  the  hand  of  his  client,  he  led  her  to 
the  door,  repeating :  "  Do  not  worry  yourself ;  all  the 
difficulties  shall  be  got  through.  Come  again,  and  we 
will  talk  them  over ; "  and  before  she  could  thank  him 
he  was  half  way  to  his  daughter's  apartment.  Flavia 
had  summoned  her  father  to  show  him  a  new  costume 
which  had  just  been  sent  home  by  Van  Klopen,  and 
which  pleased  her  greatly.  Flavians  costume  was  a 
masterpiece  of  fashionable  bad  taste,  which  makes 
women  look  all  alike  and  destroys  all  appearance  of 
individuality.  It  was  a  mass  of  frills,  furbelows, 
fringes,  and  flutings  of  rare  hue  and  form,  making  a 
series  of  wonderful  contrasts.  Standing  in  the  middle 
of  the  room,  with  every  available  candle  alight,  for 
the  day  was  fading  away,  she  was  so  dainty  and 
pretty  that  even  the  bizarre  dress  of  Van  Klopen's 
was  unable  to  spoil  her  appearance.  As  she  turned 
round,  she  caught  sight  of  her  father  in  a  mirror, 
panting  with  the  haste  he  had  made  in  running  up- 
stairs. 

"  What  a  time  you  have  been ! "  said  she  pettishly. 

"  I  was  with  a  client,"  returned  he  apologetically. 

"You  ought  to  have  got  rid  of  him  at  once.  But 
never  mind  that;  look  at  me  and  tell  me  plainly  what 
you  think  of  me." 

She  had  no  need  to  put  the  question,  for  the  most 
intense  admiration  beamed  in  his  face. 

"  Exquisite,  delicious,  heavenly !  "  answered  he. 

Flavia,  accustomed  as  she  was  to  her  father's  compli- 
ments, was  highly  delighted.  "Then  you  think  that 
he  will  like  me  ?  "  asked  she. 


FATHER  AND   DAUGHTER  185 

She  alluded  to  Paul  Violaine,  and  the  banker  heaved 
a  deep  sigh  as  he  replied, — 

"Is  it  possible  that  any  human  being  exists  that 
you  cannot  please  ?  " 

"Ah!"  mused  she,  "if  it  were  any  one  but  he,  I 
should  have  no  doubts  or  misgivings." 

Martin  Rigal  took  a  seat  near  the  fire,  and,  drawing 
his  daughter  to  him,  pressed  a  fond  kiss  upon  her  brow, 
while  she  with  the  grace  and  activity  of  a  cat,  nestled 
upon  his  knee.  "  Suppose,  after  all,  that  he  should  not 
like  me/'  murmured  she ;  "  I  should  die  of  grief/' 

The  banker  turned  away  his  face  to  hide  the  gloom 
that  overspread  it.  "  Do  you  love  him,  then,  even 
now?"  asked  he. 

She  paused  for  a  moment,  and  he  added,  "  More  than 
you  do  me?" 

Flavia  pressed  her  father's  hand  between  both  her 
palms  and  answered  with  a  musical  laugh,  "  How  silly 
you  are,  papa!  Why,  of  course  I  love  you.  Are  you 
not  my  father?  I  love  you  too  because  you  are  kind 
and  do  all  I  wish,  and  because  you  are  always  telling 
me  that  you  love  me.  Because  you  are  like  the  cupids 
in  the  fairy  stories — dear  old  people  who  give  their 
children  all  their  heart's  desire ;  I  love  you  for  my  car- 
riage, my  horses,  and  my  lovely  dresses;  for  my  purse 
filled  with  gold,  for  my  beautiful  jewelry,  and  for  all 
the  lovely  presents  you  make  me." 

Every  word  she  spoke  betrayed  the  utter  selfishness 
of  her  soul,  and  yet  her  father  listened  with  a  fixed 
smile  of  delight  on  his  face. 

"  And  why  do  you  love  him  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  Because — because,"  stammered  the  girl,  "  first,  be- 
cause he  is  himself;  and  then, — well,  I  can't  say,  but  I 
do  love  him." 


186  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Her  accents  betrayed  such  depth  of  passion  that  the 
father  uttered  a  groan  of  anguish. 

Flavia  caught  the  expression  of  his  features,  and 
burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter. 

"  I  really  believe  that  you  are  jealous,"  said  she,  as 
if  she  were  speaking  to  a  spoiled  child.  "  That  is  very 
naughty  of  you ;  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself. 
I  tell  you  that  the  first  time  I  set  eyes  upon  him  at  Van 
Klopen's,  I  felt  a  thrill  of  love  pierce  through  my  heart, 
such  love  as  I  never  felt  for  a  human  being  before. 
Since  then,  I  have  known  no  rest.  I  cannot  sleep,  and 
instead  of  blood,  liquid  fire  seems  to  come  through  my 
veins." 

Martin  Rigal  raised  his  eyes  to  the  ceiling  in  mute 
surprise  at  this  outburst  of  feeling. 

"  You  do  not  understand  me,"  went  on  Flavia.  "  You 
are  the  best  of  fathers,  but,  after  all,  you  are  but  a 
man.  Had  I  a  mother,  she  would  comprehend  me 
better." 

"  What  could  your  mother  have  done  for  you  more 
than  I?  Have  I  neglected  anything  for  your  happi- 
ness ?  "  asked  the  banker,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Perhaps  nothing ;  for  there  are  times  when  I  hard- 
ry  understand  my  own  feelings." 

In  gloomy  silence  the  banker  listened  to  the  narra- 
tive of  his  daughter's  state  of  mind;  then  he  said, — 

"All  shall  be  as  you  desire,  and  the  man  you  love 
shall  be  your  husband." 

The  girl  was  almost  beside  herself  with  joy,  and, 
throwing  her  arms  around  his  neck,  pressed  kiss  upon 
kiss  on  his  cheeks  and  forehead. 

"  Darling,"  said  she,  "  I  love  you  for  this  more  than 
for  anything  that  you  have  given  me  in  my  life." 

The  banker  sighed  again;  and  Flavia,  shaking  her 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER  187 

pretty  little  fist  at  him,  exclaimed,  "  What  is  the  mean- 
ing of  that  sigh,  sir?  Do  you  by  any  chance  regret 
your  promise?  But  never  mind  that.  How  do  you 
mean  to  bring  him  here  without  causing  any  sus- 
picion ?  " 

A  benevolent  smile  passed  over  her  father's  face,  as 
he  answered, — 

"  That,  my  pet,  is  my  secret." 

"  Very  well,  keep  it ;  I  do  not  care  what  means  you 
use,  as  long  as  I  see  him  soon,  very  soon, — to-night 
perhaps,  in  an  hour,  or  even  in  a  few  minutes.  You 
say  Dr.  Hortebise  will  bring  him  here;  he  will  sit  at 
our  table.  I  can  look  at  him  without  trouble,  I  shall 
hear  his  voice " 

"  Silly  little  puss ! "  broke  in  the  banker ;  "  or,  rather, 
I  should  say,  unhappy  child." 

"  Silly,  perhaps ;  but  why  should  you  say  unhappy  ?  " 

"You  love  him  too  fondly,  and  he  will  take  advan- 
tage of  your  feeling  for  him." 

"  Never ;  I  do  not  believe  it,"  answered  the  girl. 

"  I  hope  to  heaven,  darling,  that  my  fears  may  never 
be  realized.  But  he  is  not  the  sort  of  husband  that  I 
intended  for  you;  he  is  a  composer." 

"  And  is  that  anything  against  him ! "  exclaimed 
Flavia  in  angry  tones ;  "  one  would  think  from  your 
sneers  that  this  was  a  crime.  Not  only  is  he  a  com- 
poser, but  he  is  a  genius.  I  can  read  that  in  his  face. 
He  may  be  poor,  but  I  am  rich  enough  for  both,  and 
he  will  owe  all  to  me;  so  much  the  better,  for  then 
he  will  not  be  compelled  to  give  lessons  for  his  liveli- 
hood, and  he  will  have  leisure  to  compose  an  opera 
more  beautiful  than  any  that  Gounod  has  ever  written, 
and  I  shall  share  all  his  glory.  Why,  perhaps,  he  may 
even  sing  his  own  songs  to  me  alone." 


188  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Her  father  noticed  her  state  of  feverish  excitement 
and  gazed  upon  her  sadly.  Flavians  mother  had  been 
removed  from  this  world  at  the  early  age  of  twenty- 
four  by  that  insidious  malady,  consumption,  which  de- 
fies modern  medical  science,  and  in  a  brief  space 
changes  a  beautiful  girl  into  a  livid  corpse,  and  the 
father  viewed  her  excited  manner,  flushed  cheeks,  and 
sparkling  eyes  with  tears  and  dismay. 

"  By  heavens ! "  cried  he,  bursting  into  a  sudden  fit 
of  passion;  ";f  ever  he  ill  treats  you,  he  is  a  dead 
man." 

The  girl  was  startled  at  the  sudden  ferocity  of  his 
manner. 

"  What  have  I  done  to  make  you  angry  ?  "  asked  she ; 
"  and  why  do  you  have  such  evil  thoughts  of  him  ?  " 

"  I  tremble  for  you,  in  whom  my  whole  soul  is 
wrapped  up,"  answered  the  banker.  "This  man  has 
robbed  me  of  my  child's  heart,  and  you  will  be  happier 
with  him  than  you  are  with  your  poor  old  father.  I 
tremble  because  of  your  inexperience  and  his  weakness, 
which  may  prove  a  source  of  trouble  to  you." 

"  If  he  is  weak,  all  the  better ;  my  will  can  guide 
him." 

"You  are  wrong,"  replied  her  father,  "as  many 
other  women  have  been  before  you.  You  believe  that 
weak  and  vacillating  dispositions  are  easily  controlled, 
but  I  tell  you  that  this  is  an  error.  Only  determined 
characters  can  be  influenced,  and  it  is  on  substantial 
foundations  that  we  find  support." 

Flavia  made  no  reply,  and  her  father  drew  her  closer 
to  him. 

"  Listen  to  me,  my  child/'  said  he.  "  You  will  never 
have  a  better  friend  than  I  am.  You  know  that  I 
would  shed  every  drop  of  blood  in  my  veins  for  you. 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER  189 

He  is  coming,  so  search  your  heart  to  discover  if  this 
is  not  some  mere  passing  fancy." 

"  Father ! "  cried  she. 

"Remember  that  your  happiness  is  in  your  own 
hands  now,  so  be  careful  and  conceal  your  feelings,  and 
do  not  let  him  discover  how  deep  your  love  is  for 
him.  Men's  minds  are  so  formed  that  while  they 
blame  a  woman  for  duplicity,  they  complain  far  more  if 
she  acts  openly  and  allows  her  feelings  to  be  seen " 

He  paused,  for  the  door-bell  rang.  Flavia's  heart 
gave  a  bound  of  intense  joy. 

"  He  has  come ! "  gasped  she,  and,  with  a  strong 
effort  to  retain  her  composure,  she  added,  "  I  will  obey 
you,  my  dear  father;  I  will  not  come  here  again  until  I 
have  entirely  regained  my  composure.  Do  not  fear, 
and  I  will  show  you  that  your  daughter  can  act  a  part 
as  well  as  any  other  woman." 

She  fled  from  the  room  as  the  door  opened, 
but  it  was  not  Paul  who  made  his  appearance, 
but  some  other  guests — a  stout  manufacturer  and 
his  wife,  the  latter  gorgeously  dressed,  but  with 
scarcely  a  word  to  say  for  herself.  For  this  eve- 
ning the  banker  had  issued  invitations  to  twenty 
of  his  friends,  and  among  this  number  Paul 
would  scarcely  be  noticed.  He  in  due  time  made  his 
appearance  with  Dr.  Hortebise,  who  had  volunteered 
to  introduce  him  into  good  society.  Paul  felt  ill  at 
ease;  he  had  just  come  from  the  hands  of  a  fashion- 
able tailor,  who,  thanks  to  Mascarin's  influence,  had 
in  forty-eight  hours  prepared  an  evening  suit  of  such 
superior  cut  that  the  young  man  hardly  knew  himself 
in  it.  Paul  had  suffered  a  good  deal  from  conflicting 
emotions  after  the  visit  to  Van  Klopen's,  and  more 
than  once  regretted  the  adhesion  that  he  had  given  to 


190  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Mascarin's  scheme;  but  a  visit  the  next  day  from 
Hortebise,  and  the  knowledge  that  the  fashionable 
physician  was  one  of  the  confederates,  had  reconciled 
him  to  the  position  he  had  promised  to  assume. 

He  was  moreover  struck  with  Flavians  charms,  and 
dazzled  with  the  accounts  of  her  vast  prospective  for- 
tune. To  him,  Hortebise,  gay,  rich,  and  careless, 
seemed  the  incarnation  of  happiness,  and  contributed 
greatly  to  stifle  the  voice  of  Paul's  conscience.  He 
would,  however,  perhaps  have  hesitated  had  he  known 
what  the  locket  contained  that  dangled  so  ostentatiously 
from  the  doctor's  chain. 

Before  they  reached  the  banker's  door,  driven  in  the 
doctor's  elegant  brougham,  a  similar  one  to  which  Paul 
mentally  declared  he  would  have,  as  soon  as  circum- 
stances would  permit,  the  young  man's  mentor  spoke. 

u  Let  me  say  a  few  words  to  you.  You  have  before 
you  a  chance  which  is  seldom  afforded  to  any  young 
man,  whatever  his  rank  and  social  standing.  Mind 
that  you  profit  by  it." 

"You  may  be  sure  I  will,"  said  Paul,  with  a  smile 
of  self-complacency. 

"Good,  dear  boy;  but  let  me  fortify  your  courage 
with  a  little  of  my  experience.  Do  you  know  what 
an  heiress  really  is?" 

"Well,  really " 

"Permit  me  to  continue.  An  heiress  and  more  so 
if  she  is  an  only  child,  is  generally  a  very  disagreeable 
person,  headstrong,  capricious,  and  puffed  up  with  her 
own  importance.  She  is  utterly  spoiled  by  the  flattery 
to  which  she  has  been  accustomed  from  her  earliest 
years,  and  thinks  that  all  the  world  is  made  to  bend 
before  her." 

"  Ah  1 "  answered  Paul,  a  little  discomfited.    "  I  hope 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER  191 

it  is  not  Mademoiselle  Flavians  portrait  that  you  have 
been  sketching  ?  " 

"Not  exactly,"  answered  the  doctor,  with  a  laugh. 
"  But  I  must  warn  you  that  even  she  has  certain  whims 
and  fancies.  For  instance,  I  am  quite  sure  that  she 
would  give  a  suitor  every  encouragement,  and  then  re- 
pulse him  without  rhyme  or  reason." 

Paul,  who  up  to  this  time  had  only  seen  the  bright 
side  of  affairs,  was  a  good  deal  disconcerted. 

"  But  why  should  you  introduce  me  to  her  then?  " 

"  In  order  that  you  may  win  her.  Have  you  not 
everything  to  insure  success?  She  will  most  likely  re- 
ceive you  with  the  utmost  cordiality;  but  beware  of 
being  too  sanguine.  Even  if  she  makes  desperate  love 
to  you,  I  say,  take  care;  it  may  be  only  a  trap;  for, 
between  ourselves,  a  girl  who  has  a  million  stitched  to 
her  petticoats  is  to  be  excused  if  she  endeavors  to  find 
out  whether  the  suitor  is  after  her  or  her  money." 

Just  then  the  brougham  stopped,  and  Dr.  Hortebise 
and  his  young  friend  entered  the  house  in  the  Rue 
Montmartre,  where  they  were  cordially  greeted  by  the 
banker. 

Paul  glanced  round,  but  there  were  no  signs  of 
Flavia,  nor  did  she  make  her  appearance  until  five  min- 
utes before  the  dinner  hour,  when  the  guests  flocked 
round  her.  She  had  subdued  all  her  emotions,  and  not 
a  quiver  of  the  eyelids  disclosed  the  excitement  under 
which  she  was  laboring.  Her  eye  rested  on  Paul,  and 
he  bowed  ceremoniously.  The  banker  was  delighted, 
for  he  had  not  believed  much  in  her  self-command.  But 
Flavia  had  taken  his  advice  to  heart,  and  when  seated 
at  table  abstained  from  casting  a  glance  in  Paul's  direc- 
tion. When  dinner  was  over  and  many  of  the  guests 
had  sat  down  to  whist,  Flavia  ventured  to  approach 


192  CAUGHT   IN  THE   NET 

Paul,  and  in  a  low  voice,  which  shook  a  little  in  spite 
of  her  efforts,  said, — 

"Will  you  not  play  me  one  of  your  own  composi- 
tions, M.  Violaine?" 

Paul  was  but  a  medium  performer,  but  Flavia 
seemed  in  the  seventh  heaven,  while  her  father  and 
Dr.  Hortebise,  who  had  taken  their  seats  not  far  away, 
watched  the  young  couple  with  much  anxiety. 

"  How  she  adores  him ! "  whispered  the  banker. 
"And  yet  I  cannot  judge  of  the  effect  that  she  has 
produced  upon  him. 

"  Surely  Mascarin  will  worm  it  all  out  of  him  to- 
morrow/' returned  the  doctor.  "  To-morrow  the  poor 
fellow  will  have  his  hands  full,  for  there  is  to  be  a 
general  meeting,  when  we  shall  hear  all  about  Catenae's 
ideas,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  know  what  Croisenois's  con- 
duct will  be  when  he  knows  what  he  is  wanted  for." 

It  was  growing  late,  and  the  guests  began  to  drop 
off.  Dr.  Hortebise  signalled  to  Paul,  and  they  left 
the  house  together.  According  to  the  promise  to  her 
father,  Flavia  had  acted  her  part  so  well,  that  Paul  did 
not  know  whether  he  had  made  an  impression  or  not. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

MASTER  CHUPIN. 

BEAUMARCHEF,  when  Mascarin  called  a  general  meet- 
ing of  his  associates,  was  in  the  habit  of  assuming  his 
very  best  attire;  for  as  he  was  often  called  into  the 
inner  office  to  answer  questions,  he  was  much  impressed 
with  the  importance  of  the  occasion.  This  time,  how- 
ever, the  subordinate,  although  he  had  receiveJ  ')ue 


MASTER   CHUPIN  193 

notice  of  the  meeting,  was  still  in  his  every-day  dress. 
This  discomposed  him  a  good  deal,  though  he  kept 
muttering  to  himself  that  he  meant  no  disrespect  by  it. 
Early  in  the  morning  he  had  been  compelled  to  make 
up  the  accounts  of  two  cooks,  who,  having  obtained 
situations,  were  leaving  the  servants*  lodging-house. 
When  this  matter  was  completed,  he  had  hoped  for  half 
an  hour's  leisure.  As  he  was  crossing  the  courtyard, 
however,  he  fell  in  with  Toto  Chupin  bringing  in  his 
daily  report,  which  Beaumarchef  thought  would  be 
what  it  usually  was — a  mere  matter  of  form.  He  was, 
however,  much  mistaken;  for  though  outwardly  Toto 
was  the  same,  yet  his  ideas  had  taken  an  entirely  new 
direction;  and  when  Beaumarchef  urged  him  to  look 
sharp,  the  request  was  received  with  a  great  deal  of 
sullenness. 

"  I  ain't  lost  no  time,"  said  he,  "  and  have  fished  up 
a  thing  or  two  fresh ;  but  before  saying  a  word " 

He  stopped,  and  seemed  a  little  confused 

"Well,  goon." 

"  I  want  a  fresh  arrangement." 

Beaumarchef  was  staggered. 

"Arrangement!"  he  echoed. 

"  Of  course  you  can  lump  it  if  yer  don't  like  it,"  said 
the  boy.  "  Do  you  think  as  how  I'm  going  to  work  like 
a  horse,  and  not  get  a  wink  of  sleep,  just  for  a  '  thank 
ye,  Chupin?'  No  fear.  I'm  worth  a  sight  more  nor 
that." 

Beaumarchef  flew  into  a  rage. 

"  Then  you  are  not  worth  a  pinch  of  salt,"  said  he. 

"All  right,  my  cove." 

"And  you  are  an  ungrateful  young  villain  to  talk 
like  this  after  all  the  kindness  your  master  has  shown 
you." 


194  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Chupin  gave  a  sarcastic  laugh. 

"Goodness!"  cried  he.  "To  hear  you  go  on,  one 
would  think  that  the  boss  had  ruined  himself  for  my 
sake/' 

"  He  took  you  out  of  the  streets,  and  has  given  you 
a  room  ever  since." 

"A  room,  do  you  say?    I  call  it  a  dog  kennel." 

"You  have  your  breakfast  and  dinner  every  day 
regularly." 

"  I  know  that,  and  half  a  bottle  of  wine  at  each  meal, 
which  has  so  much  water  in  it  that  it  cannot  even  stain 
the  tablecloth." 

"You  are  an  ungrateful  young  hound,"  exclaimed 
Beaumarchef,  "  and  forget  that,  in  addition  to  this, 
he  has  set  you  up  in  business  as  a  hot  chestnut 
seller." 

"  Good  old  business !  I  am  allowed  to  stand  all  day 
under  the  gateway,  roasted  on  one  side,  and  frozen  on 
the  other,  and  gain,  perhaps  twenty  sous." 

"You  know  that  in  summer  he  has  promised  to  set 
you  up  in  the  fried  potato  line." 

"Thank  ye  for  nothing;  I  don't  like  the  smell  of 
grease." 

"  What  is  it  you  want,  then  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  I  feels  that  I  ought  to  be  a  gentleman  at 
large." 

Beaumarchef  cast  a  furious  glance  at  the  shameless 
youth,  and  told  him  that  he  would  report  everything 
to  his  master.  The  boy,  however,  did  not  seem  to  care 
a  pin. 

"  I  intends  to  see  Master  Mascarin  myself  presently," 
remarked  Chupin. 

"You  are  an  idiot." 

"  Why  so?    Do  you  think  I  didn't  live  better  before 


MASTER   CHUPIN  195 

I  had  anything  to  do  with  this  blooming  old  cove?  I 
never  worked  then.  I  used  to  sing  in  front  of  the 
pubs,  and  easily  made  my  three  francs  a  day.  My  pal 
and  I  soon  check  'em  though,  and  then  off  we  went  to 
the  theatre.  Sometimes  we'd  make  tracks  for  Ivry, 
and  take  our  doss  in  a  deserted  factory,  into  which  the 
crushers  never  put  their  noses.  In  the  winter  we  used 
to  go  to  the  glass  houses  and  sleep  in  the  warm  ashes. 
All  these  were  good  times,  while  now " 

"  Well,  what  have  you  to  grumble  at  now  ?  Don't  I 
hand  you  a  five-franc  piece  every  day  that  you  are  at 
work?" 

"But  that  ain't  good  enough.  Come,  don't  get 
shirty ;  all  I  asks  for  is  a  rise  of  salary.  Only  say 
either  Yes  or  No;  and  if  you  say  No,  why,  I  sends  in 
my  resignation." 

Beaumarchef  would  have  given  a  five-franc  piece  out 
of  his  own  pocket  for  Mascarin  to  have  heard  the  boy's 
impertinence. 

"  You  are  a  young  rascal ! "  said  he,  "  and  keep  the 
worst  of  company.  There  is  no  use  in  denying  it,  for 
a  hang-dog  fellow,  calling  himself  Polyte,  has  been 
here  asking  after  you." 

"  My  company  ain't  any  business  of  yours." 

"  Well,  I  give  you  warning,  you  will  come  to 
grief." 

"  How  ?  "  returned  Toto  Chupin  sulkily.  "  How  can 
I  come  to  grief?  If  old  Mascarin  interferes,  I'll  shut 
up  his  mouth  pretty  sharp.  I  wish  you  and  your  mas- 
ter wouldn't  poke  their  noses  into  my  affairs.  I'm  sick 
of  you  both.  Don't  you  think  I'm  up  to  you?  When 
you  make  me  follow  some  one  for  a  week  at  a  time, 
it  isn't  to  do  'em  a  kindness,  I  reckon.  If  things  turn 
out  badly,  I've  only  to  go  before  a  beak  and  speak 


196  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

up ;  I  should  get  off  easily  enough  then ;  and  if  I  do  so, 
you  will  be  sorry  for  not  having  given  me  more  than 
my  five  francs  a  day." 

Beaumarchef  was  an  old  soldier  and  a  bold  man,  but 
he  was  easily  upset,  for  the  lad's  insolence  made  him 
believe  that  he  was  uttering  words  that  had  been  put 
in  his  mouth  by  some  wily  adviser;  and  not  knowing 
how  to  act,  the  ex-soldier  thought  it  best  to  adopt  a 
more  conciliating  demeanor. 

"  How  much  do  you  want  ?  "  asked  he. 

"Well,  seven  francs  to  start  with." 

"  The  deuce  you  do !  Seven  francs  a  day  is  a  sum. 
Well,  I'll  give  it  you  myself  to-day  and  will  speak 
about  you  to  the  master." 

"You  won't  get  me  to  loosen  my  tongue  for  that 
amount  to-day;  you  may  bet  your  boots  on  that,"  an- 
swered the  lad  insolently.  "  I  wants  one  hundred 
francs  down  on  the  nail." 

"One  hundred  francs,"  echoed  Beaumarchef,  scan- 
dalized at  such  a  demand. 

"Yes,  my  cove,  that  and  no  less." 

"And  what  will  you  give  in  return?  No,  no,  my 
lad;  your  demand  is  a  preposterous  one;  besides,  you 
wouldn't  know  how  to  spend  such  a  sum." 

"  Don't  you  flurry  yourself  about  that ;  but  of  one 
thing  you  may  be  sure,  I  sha'n't  spend  my  wages  as  you 
do — in  wax  for  your  mustache." 

Beaumarchef  could  not  endure  an  insult  to  his  mus- 
tache, and  Chupin  was  about  to  receive  the  kick  he 
had  so  richly  earned,  when  Daddy  Tantaine  suddenly 
made  his  appearance,  looking  exactly  as  he  did  when 
he  visited  Paul  in  his  garret. 

u  Tut,  tut ;  never  quarrel  with  the  door  open." 

Beaumarchef  thanked  Providence  for  sending  this 


MASTER   CHUPIN  197 

sudden  reinforcement  to  his  aid,  and  began  in  a  tone 
of  indignation, — 

"Toto  Chupin " 

"  Stop !  I  have  heard  every  word/'  broke  in  Tan- 
taine. 

On  hearing  this,  Toto  felt  that  he  had  better  make 
himself  scarce;  for  though  he  hardly  knew  Mascarin, 
and  utterly  despised  Beaumarchef,  he  trembled  before 
the  oily  Tantaine,  for  in  him  he  recognized  a  being  who 
would  stand  no  nonsense.  He  therefore  began  in  an 
apologetic  tone, — 

"  Just  let  me  speak,  sir ;  I  only  wanted " 

"  Money,  of  course,  and  very  natural  too.  Come, 
Beaumarchef,  hand  this  worthy  lad  the  hundred  francs 
that  he  has  so  politely  asked  for." 

Beaumarchef  was  utterly  stupefied,  and  was  about 
to  make  some  objection  when  he  was  struck  by  a  signal 
which  Toto  did  not  perceive,  and,  drawing  out  his 
pocketbook,  extracted  a  note  which  he  offered  to  the 
lad.  Toto  glanced  at  the  note,  then  at  the  faces  of 
the  two  men,  but  was  evidently  afraid  to  take  the 
money. 

"  Take  the  money,"  said  Tantaine.  "  If  your  in- 
formation is  not  worth  the  money,  I  will  have  it  back 
from  you;  come  into  the  office,  where  we  shall  not  be 
disturbed." 

Tantaine  took  a  chair,  and  glancing  at  Toto,  who 
stood  before  him  twirling  his  cap  leisurely,  said, — 

"  I  heard  you." 

The  lad  had  by  this  time  recovered  his  customary 
audacity. 

"  Five  days  ago,"  he  began,  "  I  was  put  on  to  Caro- 
line Schimmel ;  I  have  found  out  all  about  her  by  this 
time.  She  is  as  regular  as  clockwork  in  her  duties  at 


198  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

least.  She  wakes  at  ten  and  takes  her  absinthe.  Then 
she  goes  to  a  little  restaurant  she  knows,  and  has  her 
breakfast  and  a  game  at  cards  with  any  one  that  will 
play  with  her.  At  six  in  the  evening  she  goes  to  the 
Grand  Turk,  a  restaurant  and  dancing-shop  in  the  Rue 
des  Poisonnieres.  Ain't  it  a  swell  ken  just !  You  can 
eat,  drink,  dance,  or  sing,  just  as  you  like;  but  you 
must  have  decent  togs  on,  or  they  won't  let  you  in." 

"  Wouldn't  they  let  you  through  then  ?  " 

Toto  pointed  significantly  to  his  rags  as  he  re- 
plied,— 

"This  rig  out  wouldn't  pass  muster,  but  I  have  a 
scheme  in  hand." 

Tantaine  took  down  the  address  of  the  dancing-saloon, 
and  then,  addressing  Toto  with  the  utmost  severity, — 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  he,  "  that  this  report  is  worth 
a  hundred  francs  ?  " 

Toto  made  a  quaint  grimace. 

"  Do  you  think,"  asked  he,  "  that  Caroline  can  lead 
the  life  she  does  without  money?  No  fear.  Well,  I 
have  found  out  where  the  coin  comes  from." 

The  dim  light  in  the  office  enabled  Tantaine  to  hide 
the  pleasure  he  felt  on  hearing  these  words. 

"  Ah,"  answered  he  carelessly,  as  if  it  was  a  matter 
of  but  little  moment,  "  and  so  you  have  found  out  all 
that,  have  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  a  heap  besides.  Just  you  listen.  After 
her  breakfast,  my  sweet  Carry  began  to  play  cards  with 
some  chaps  who  had  been  grubbing  at  the  next  table. 
'  Regular  right  down  card  sharpers  and  macemen,'  said 
I  to  myself,  as  I  watched  the  way  in  which  they  faked 
the  pasteboards.  '  They'll  get  everything  out  of  you,  old 
gal.'  I  was  in  the  right,  for  in  less  than  an  hour  she 
had  to  go  up  to  the  counter  and  leave  one  of  her  rings 


MASTER   CHUPIN  199 

as  security  for  the  breakfast.  .He  said  he  knew  her, 
and  would  give  her  credit.  'You  are  a  trump/  said 
she.  '  I'll  just  trot  off  to  my  own  crib  and  get  the 
money/  " 

"Did  she  go  home?" 

"  Not  she ;  she  went  to  a  real  swell  house  in  a  bang 
up  part  of  Paris,  the  Rue  de  Varennes.  She  knocked 
at  the  door,  and  in  she  went,  while  I  lounged  about 
outside/' 

"  Do  you  know  who  lives  there  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do.  The  grocer  round  the  corner  told 

me  that  it  was  inhabited  by  the  Duke what  was  his 

blessed  name  ?  Oh,  the  Duke " 

"Was  it  the  Duke  de  Champdoce?" 

"  That  is  the  right  one,  a  chap  they  say  as  has  his 
cellars  chock  full  of  gold  and  silver." 

"You  are  rather  slow,  my  lad,"  said  Tantaine,  with 
his  assumed  air  of  indifference.  "Get  on  a  bit, 
do." 

Toto  was  much  put  out;  for  he  had  expected  that 
his  intelligence  would  have  created  an  immense  sensa- 
tion. 

"  Give  a  cove  time  to  breathe  in.  Well,  in  half  an 
hour  out  comes  my  Carry  as  lively  as  a  flea.  She  got 
into  a  passing  cab  and  away  she  went.  Fortunately  I 
can  run  a  bit,  and  reached  the  Palais  Royal  in  time 
to  see  Caroline  change  two  notes  of  two  hundred  francs 
each  at  the  money-changers." 

"  How  did  you  find  out  that  ?  " 

"  By  looking  at  'em.    The  paper  was  yellow." 

Tantaine  smiled  kindly.  "  You  know  a  banknote 
then?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  have  precious  few  chances  of  handling 
them.  Once  I  went  into  a  money-changer's  shop  and 


200  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

asked  them  just  to  let  me  feel  one,  and  they  said,  '  Get 
out  sharp/  " 

"Is  that  all?"  demanded  Tantaine. 

"  No ;  I  have  kept  the  best  bit  for  a  finish.  I  want 
to  tell  you  that  there  are  others  on  the  lookout  after 
Caroline/' 

Toto  had  no  reason  this  time  to  grumble  at  the  effect 
he  had  produced,  for  the  old  man  gave  such  a  jump 
that  his  hat  fell  off. 

"What  are  you  saying?"  said  he. 

"  Simply  that  for  the  last  three  days  a  big  chap  with 
a  harp  on  his  back  has  been  keeping  her  in  view.  I 
twigged  him  at  once,  and  he  too  saw  her  go  into  the 
swell  crib  that  you  say  belongs  to  that  Duke." 

Tantaine  pondered  a  little. 

"  A  street  musician,"  muttered  he.  "  I  must  find  out 
all  about  this.  Now,  Toto,  listen  to  me;  chuck  Caro- 
line over,  and  stick  to  the  fellow  with  the  harp;  be 
off  with  you,  for  you  have  earned  your  money  well." 

As  Chupin  went  off,  the  old  man  shook  his  head. 

"  Too  sharp  by  a  good  bit,"  said  he ;  "  he  won't  have 
a  long  lease  of  life." 

Beaumarchef  was  about  to  ask  Tantaine  to  remain 
in  the  office  while  he  went  off  to  put  on  his  best  clothes, 
but  the  old  man  stopped  this  request  by  saying, — 

"As  M.  Mascarin  does  not  like  to  be  disturbed,  I 
will  just  go  in  without  knocking.  When  the  other  gen- 
tlemen arrive,  show  them  in;  for  look  you  here,  my 
good  friend,  the  pear  is  so  ripe  that  if  it  is  not  plucked, 
it  will  fall  to  the  ground." 


A  TURN   OF  THE   SCREW  201 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  TURN  OF  THE  SCREW. 

DR.  HORTEBISE  was  the  first  to  arrive.  It  was  a  terri- 
ble thing  for  him  to  get  up  so  early ;  but  for  Mascarin's 
sake  he  consented  even  to  this  inconvenience.  When 
he  passed  through  the  office,  the  room  was  full  of 
clients;  but  this  did  not  prevent  the  doctor  from  no- 
ticing the  negligence  of  Beaumarchef's  costume. 

"  Aha !  "  remarked  the  doctor,  "  on  the  drunk  again, 
I  am  afraid/' 

"M.  Mascarin  is  within/'  answered  the  badgered 
clerk,  endeavoring  to  put  on  an  air  of  dignity;  "and 
M.  Tantaine  is  with  him." 

A  brilliant  idea  flashed  across  the  doctor's  mind,  but 
it  was  with  great  gravity  that  he  said, — 

"  I  shall  be  charmed  to  meet  that  most  worthy  old 
gentleman." 

When,  however,  he  entered  the  inner  sanctum,  he 
found  Mascarin  alone,  occupied  in  sorting  the  eternal 
pieces  of  pasteboard. 

"Well,  what  news?"  asked  he. 

"There  are  none  that  I  know  of." 

"What,  have  you  not  seen  Paul?" 

"  No." 

"Will  he  be  here?" 

"  Certainly." 

Mascarin  was  often  laconic,  but  he  seldom  gave  such 
short  answers  as  this. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  the  doctor.  "Your 
greeting  is  quite  funereal.  Are  you  not  well  ?  " 


202  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  I  am  merely  preoccupied,  and  that  is  excusable  on 
the  eve  of  the  battle  we  are  about  to  fight/'  returned 
Mascarin. 

He  only,  however,  told  a  portion  of  the  truth;  for 
there  was  more  in  the  background,  which  he  did  not 
wish  to  confide  to  his  friend.  Toto  Chupin's  revolt  had 
disquieted  him.  Let  there  be  but  a  single  flaw  in  the 
axletree,  and  one  day  it  will  snap  in  twain;  and  Mas- 
carin wanted  to  eliminate  this  flaw. 

"  Pooh ! "  remarked  the  doctor,  playing  with  his 
locket,  "  we  shall  succeed.  What  have  we  to  fear,  after 
all, — opposition  on  Paul's  part  ?  " 

"  Paul  may  resent  a  little,"  answered  Mascarin  dis- 
dainfully ;  "  but  I  have  decided  that  he  shall  be  present 
at  our  meeting  of  to-day.  It  will  be  a  stormy  one,  so 
be  prepared.  We  might  give  him  his  medicine  in  min- 
ims, but  I  prefer  the  whole  dose  at  once." 

"  The  deuce  you  do !  Suppose  he  should  be  fright- 
ened, and  make  off  with  our  secret." 

"  He  won't  make  off,"  replied  Mascarin  in  a  tone 
which  froze  his  listener's  blood.  "  He  can't  escape 
from  us  any  more  than  the  cockchafer  can  from  the 
string  that  a  child  has  fastened  to  it.  Do  you  not 
understand  weak  natures  like  his?  He  is  the  glove,  I 
the  strong  hand  beneath  it." 

The  doctor  did  not  argue  this  point,  but  merely  mur- 
mured,— 

"  Let  us  hope  that  it  is  so." 

"  Should  we  have  any  opposition,  resumed  Mascarin, 
"  it  will  come  from  Catenae.  I  may  be  able  to  force 
him  into  co-operation  with  us,  but  his  heart  will  not 
be  in  the  enterprise." 

"  Do  you  propose  to  bring  Catenae  into  this  affair  ?  " 
asked  Hortebise  in  great  surprise. 


A  TURN   OF   THE   SCREW  203 

"  Assuredly/' 

"Why  have  you  changed  your  plan?" 

"  Simply  because  I  have  recognized  the  fact  that,  if 
we  dispensed  with  his  services,  we  should  be  entirely 
at  the  mercy  of  a  shrewd  man  of  business,  be- 
cause  » 

He  broke  off,  listened  for  a  moment,  and  then  said, — 
Hush !  I  can  hear  his  footstep." 

A  dry  cough  was  heard  outside,  and  in  another  mo- 
ment Catenae  entered  the  room. 

Nature,  or  profound  dissimulation,  had  gifted  Cat- 
enae with  an  exterior  which  made  every  one,  when 
first  introduced  to  him,  exclaim,  "  This  is  an  honest 
and  trustworthy  man."  Catenae  always  looked  his 
clients  boldly  in  the  face.  His  voice  was  pleasant,  and 
had  a  certain  ring  of  joviality  in  it,  and  his  manner 
was  one  of  those  easy  ones  which  always  insure  popu- 
larity. He  was  looked  upon  as  a  shrewd  lawyer;  but 
yet  he  did  not  shine  in  court.  He  must  therefore,  to 
make  those  thirty  thousand  francs  a  year  which  he  was 
credited  with  doing,  have  some  special  line  of  busi- 
ness. He  assayed  rather  risky  matters,  which  might 
bring  both  parties  into  the  clutches  of  the  criminal 
law,  or,  at  any  rate,  leave  them  with  a  taint  upon  both 
their  names.  A  sensational  lawsuit  is  begun,  and  the 
public  eagerly  await  the  result;  suddenly  the  whole 
thing  collapses,  for  Catenae  has  acted  as  mediator.  He 
has  even  settled  the  disputes  of  murderers  quarrelling 
over  their  booty.  But  he  has  even  gone  farther  than 
this.  More  than  once  he  has  said  of  himself,  "  I  have 
passed  through  the  vilest  masses  of  corruption."  In 
his  office  in  the  Rue  Jacob  he  has  heard  whispered 
conferences  which  were  enough  to  bring  down  the  roof 
above  his  head.  Of  course  this  was  the  most  lucrative 


204  CAUGHT   IN   THE    NET 

business  that  passed  into  Catenae's  hands.  The  client 
conceals  nothing  from  his  attorney,  and  he  belongs  to 
him  as  absolutely  as  the  sick  man  belongs  to  his  physi- 
cian or  the  penitent  to  his  confessor. 

"  Well,  my  dear  Baptiste,"  said  he,  "  here  I  am ;  you 
summoned  me,  and  I  am  obedient  to  the  call." 

"  Sit  down,"  replied  Mascarin  gravely. 

"Thanks,  my  friend,  many  thanks,  a  thousand 
thanks;  but  I  am  much  hurried;  indeed  I  have  not  a 
moment  to  spare.  I  have  matters  on  my  hands  of  life 
and  death." 

"But  for  all  that,"  remarked  Hortebise,  "you  can 
sit  down  for  a  moment.  Baptiste  has  something  to  say 
to  you  which  is  as  important  as  any  of  your  matters 
can  be." 

With  a  frank  and  genial  smile  Catenae  obeyed;  but 
in  his  heart  were  anger  and  an  abject  feeling  of  alarm. 

"  What  is  it  that  is  so  important  ?  "  asked  he. 

Mascarin  had  risen  and  locked  the  door.  When  he 
had  resumed  his  seat  he  said, — 

"The  facts  are  very  simple.  Hortebise  and  I  have 
decided  to  put  our  great  plan  into  execution,  which 
we  have  as  yet  only  discussed  generally  with  you.  We 
have  the  Marquis  de  Croisenois  with  us." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  broke  in  the  lawyer. 

"Wait  a  little;  we  must  have  your  assistance, 
and " 

Catenae  rose  from  his  seat.  "That  is  enough,"  said 
he.  "  You  have  made  a  very  great  mistake  if  it  is  on 
this  matter  that  you  have  sent  for  me;  I  told  you  this 
before." 

He  was  turning  away,  and,  looking  for  his  hat,  pro- 
posed to  beat  a  retreat;  but  Dr.  Hortebise  stood  be- 
tween him  and  the  door,  gazing  upon  him  with  no 


A  TURN   OF  THE   SCREW  205 

friendly  expression  of  countenance.  Catenae  was  not 
a  man  to  be  easily  alarmed,  but  the  doctor's  appearance 
was  so  threatening,  and  the  smile  upon  Mascarin's  lips 
was  of  so  deadly  a  character,  that  he  stood  still,  posi- 
tively frightened  into  immobility. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  stammered  he ;  "  what  is  it 
you  say  now  ?  " 

"  First,"  replied  the  doctor,  speaking  slowly  and  dis- 
tinctly,— "first,  we  wish  that  you  should  listen  to  us 
when  we  speak  to  you." 

"  I  am  listening." 

"Then  sit  down  again,  and  hear  what  Baptiste  has 
to  say." 

The  command  Catenae  had  over  his  countenance  was 
so  great  that  it  was  impossible  to  see  to  what  conclu- 
sion he  had  arrived  from  the  words  and  manner  of  his 
confederates. 

"  Then  let  Baptiste  explain  himself/'  said  he. 

"  Before  entering  into  matters  completely,"  said  he 
coolly,  "  I  first  want  to  ask  our  dear  friend  and  asso- 
ciate if  he  is  prepared  to  act  with  us?" 

"  Why  should  there  be  any  doubt  on  that  point  ? " 
asked  the  lawyer.  "Do  all  my  repeated  assurances 
count  as  nothing  ?  " 

"  We  do  not  want  promises  now ;  what  we  do  want 
is  good  faith  and  real  co-operation." 

"Can  it  be  that  you " 

"I  ought  to  inform  you,"  continued  Mascarin,  un- 
heeding the  interruption,  "that  we  have  every  pros- 
pect of  success;  and,  if  we  carry  the  matter  through, 
we  shall  certainly  have  a  million  apiece." 

Hortebise  had  not  the  calm  patience  of  his  confed- 
erate, and  exclaimed, — 

"  You  understand  it  well  enough.    Say  Yes  or  No." 


206  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Catenae  was  in  the  agonies  of  indecision,  and  for 
fully  a  minute  made  no  reply. 

"  No,  then ! "  he  broke  out  in  a  manner  which  be- 
trayed his  intense  agitation.  "  After  due  consideration, 
and  having  carefully  weighed  the  chances  for  and 
against,  I  answer  you  decidedly,  No." 

Mascarin  and  Hortebise  evidently  expected  this  re- 
ply, and  exchanged  glances. 

"  Permit  me  to  explain,"  said  Catenae,  "  what  you 
consider  as  a  cowardly  withdrawal  upon  my  part " 

"  Call  it  treachery/' 

"I  will  not  quibble  about  words.  I  wish  to  be  per- 
fectly straightforward  with  you." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  sneered  the  doctor,  "  though 
that  is  not  your  usual  form." 

"  And  yet  I  do  not  think  that  I  have  ever  concealed 
my  real  opinion  from  you.  It  is  fully  ten  years  ago 
since  I  spoke  to  you  of  the  necessity  of  breaking  up 
this  association.  Can  you  recall  what  I  said?  I  said 
only  our  extreme  need  and  griping  poverty  justified 
our  acts.  They  are  now  inexcusable." 

"  You  talked  very  freely  of  your  scruples,"  observed 
Mascarin. 

"You  remember  my  words  then?" 

"Yes,  and  I  remember  too  that  those  inner  scruples 
never  hindered  you  from  drawing  your  share  of  the 
profits." 

"  That  is  to  say,"  burst  in  the  doctor,  "  you  repudi- 
ated the  work,  but  shared  the  booty.  You  wished  to 
play  the  game  without  staking  anything." 

Catenae  was  in  no  way  disconcerted  at  this  trenchant 
argument. 

"  Quite  true,"  said  he,  "  I  always  received  my  share ; 
but  I  have  done  quite  as  much  as  you  in  putting  the 


A  TURN   OF  THE   SCREW  207 

agency  in  its  present  prosperous  condition.  Does  it 
not  work  smoothly  like  a  perfect  piece  of  mechanism? 
Have  we  not  succeeded  in  nearly  all  our  schemes  ?  The 
income  comes  in  monthly  with  extreme  regularity, 
and  I,  according  to  my  rights,  have  received  one-third. 
If  you  desire  to  throw  up  this  perilous  means  of  liveli- 
hood, say  so,  and  I  will  not  oppose  it." 

"  You  are  really  too  good,"  sneered  the  doctor,  with 
a  look  of  menace  in  his  glance. 

"  Nor,"  continued  Catenae,  "  will  I  oppose  you  if 
you  prefer  to  let  matters  stand  as  they  are;  but  if  you 
start  on  fresh  enterprises,  and  embark  on  the  tempestu- 
ous sea  of  danger,  then  I  put  down  my  foot  and  very 
boldly  Tialt.'  I  will  not  take  another  step  with  you. 
I  can  see  by  the  looks  of  both  of  you  that  you  think 
me  a  fool  and  a  coward.  Heaven  grant  that  the  future 
may  not  show  you  only  too  plainly  that  I  have  been 
in  the  right.  Think  over  this.  For  twenty  years  for- 
tune has  favored  us,  but,  believe  me,  it  is  never  wise 
to  tempt  her  too  far,  for  it  is  well  known  that  at 
some  time  or  other  she  always  turns." 

"  Your  imagery  is  really  charming,"  remarked  Horte- 
bise  sarcastically. 

"  Good,  I  have  nothing  else  to  say  but  to  repeat  my 
warning:  reflect.  Grand  as  your  hopes  and  expecta- 
tions may  be,  they  are  as  nothing  to  the  perils  that 
you  will  encounter." 

This  cold  flood  of  eloquence  was  more  than  the  doc- 
tor could  bear. 

"  It  is  all  very  well  for  you,"  exclaimed  he,  "  to 
reason  like  this,  for  you  are  a  rich  man." 

"  I  have  enough  to  live  on,  I  allow ;  for  in  addition 
to  the  income  derived  from  my  profession,  I  have 
saved  two  hundred  thousand  francs;  and  if  you  can 


208  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

be  induced  to  renounce  your  projects,  I  will  divide  this 
sum  with  you.  You  have  only  to  think/' 

Mascarin,  who  had  taken  no  part  in  the  dispute,  now 
judged  it  time  to  interfere. 

"  And  so/'  said  he,  turning  to  Catenae,  "  you  have 
only  two  hundred  thousand  francs  ?  " 

"  That  or  thereabouts." 

"  And  you  offer  to  divide  this  sum  with  us.  Really 
we  ought  to  be  deeply  grateful  to  you,  but ." 

Mascarin  paused  for  a  moment;  then  settling  his 
spectacles  more  firmly,  he  went  on, — 

"  But  even  if  you  were  to  give  us  what  you  propose, 
you  would  still  have  eleven  hundred  francs  remain' 
ing!" 

Catenae  burst  into  a  pleasant  laugh.  "  You  are 
jesting,"  said  he. 

"  I  can  prove  the  correctness  of  my  assertion ;"  and 
as  he  spoke,  Mascarin  unlocked  a  drawer,  and  taking 
a  small  notebook  from  it,  turned  over  the  pages,  and 
leaving  it  open  at  a  certain  place,  handed  it  to  the 
lawyer. 

"There,"  said  he,  "that  is  made  up  to  December 
last,  and  shows  precisely  how  you  stand  financially. 
Twice,  then,  you  have  increased  your  funds.  These 
deposits  you  will  find  in  an  addenda  at  the  end  of  the 
book." 

Catenae  started  to  his  feet;  all  his  calmness  had  now 
disappeared. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  have  just  the  sum  you  name; 
and  I,  for  that  very  reason,  refuse  to  have  anything 
further  to  do  with  your  schemes.  I  have  an  income 
of  sixty  thousand  francs ;  that  is  to  say,  sixty  thousand 
good  reasons  for  receiving  no  further  risks.  You  envy 
me  my  good  fortune,  but  did  we  not  all  start  penniless  ? 


A  TURN   OF  THE   SCREW  209 

I  have  taken  care  of  my  money,  while  you  have  squan- 
dered yours.  Hortebise  has  lost  his  patients,  while  I 
have  increased  the  number  of  my  clients ;  and  now  you 
want  me  to  tread  the  dangerous  road  again.  Not  I; 
go  your  way,  and  leave  me  to  go  home/' 

Again  he  took  up  his  hat,  but  a  wave  of  the  hand 
from  Mascarin  detained  him. 

"Suppose,"  said  he  coldly,  "that  I  told  you  that 
your  assistance  was  necessary  to  me/' 

"  I  should  say  so  much  the  worse  for  you." 

"But  suppose  I  insist ?" 

"  And  how  can  you  insist  ?  We  are  both  in  the 
same  boat,  and  sink  or  swim  together." 

"Are  you  certain  of  that?" 

"  So  certain  that  I  repeat  from  this  day  I  wash  my 
hands  of  you/' 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  in  error." 

"How  so?" 

"  Because  for  twelve  months  past,  I  have  given  food 
and  shelter  to  a  girl  of  the  name  of  Clarisse.  Do  you 
by  any  chance  know  her  ?  " 

At  the  mention  of  this  name,  the  lawyer  started,  as 
a  man  starts  who,  walking  peacefully  along,  suddenly 
sees  a  deadly  serpent  coiled  across  his  path. 

"  Clarisse,"  stammered  he,  "  how  did  you  know  of 
her  ?  who  told  you  ?  " 

But  the  sarcastic  sneer  upon  the  lips  of  his  two  con- 
federates wounded  his  pride  so  deeply,  that  in  an  in- 
stant he  recovered  his  self-possession. 

"  I  am  getting  foolish,"  said  he,  "  to  ask  these  men 
how  they  learned  my  secret.  Do  they  not  always  work 
by  infamous  and  underhand  means  ?  " 

"  You  see  I  know  all,"  remarked  Mascarin,  "  for  I 
foresaw  the  day  would  come  when  you  would  wish  to 


210  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

sever  our  connection,  and  even  give  us  up  to  justice, 
if  you  could  do  so  with  safety  to  yourself.  I  therefore 
took  my  precautions.  One  thing,  however,  I  was  not 
prepared  for,  and  that  was,  that  a  man  of  your  intelli- 
gence should  have  played  so  paltry  a  game,  and  even 
twelve  months  back  thought  of  betraying  us.  It  is  al- 
most incredible.  Do  you  ever  read  the  Gazette  des 
Tribunauxf  I  saw  in  its  pages  yesterday  a  story 
nearly  similar  to  your  own.  Shall  I  tell  it  to  you  ?  A 
lawyer  who  concealed  his  vices  beneath  the  mantle  of 
joviality  and  candor,  brought  up  from  the  country  a 
pretty,  innocent  girl  to  act  as  servant  in  his  house. 
This  lawyer  occupied  his  leisure  time  in  leading  the 
poor  child  astray,  and  the  moment  at  last  came  when 
the  consequences  of  her  weakness  were  too  apparent. 
The  lawyer  was  half  beside  himself  at  the  approaching 
scandal.  What  would  the  neighbors  say?  Well,  to 
cut  the  story  short,  the  infant  was  suppressed, — you 
understand,  suppressed,  and  the  mother  turned  into  the 
street." 

"  Baptiste,  have  mercy ! " 

"  It  was  a  most  imprudent  act,  for  such  things  al- 
ways leak  out  somehow.  You  have  a  gardener  at  your 
house  at  Champigny,  and  suppose  the  idea  seized  upon 
this  worthy  man  to  dig  up  the  ground  round  the  wall 
at  the  end  of  the  garden." 

"  That  is  enough,"  said  Catenae,  piteously.  "  I  give 
in." 

Mascarin  adjusted  his  spectacles,  as  he  always  did 
in  important  moments. 

"You  give  in,  do  you?  Not  a  bit.  Even  now  you 
are  endeavoring  to  find  a  means  of  parrying  my  home 
thrusts." 

"  But  I  declare  to  you " 


A  TURN    OF   THE    SCREW  211 

'"  Do  not  be  alarmed ;  dig  as  deeply  as  he  might,  your 
gardener  would  discover  nothing." 

The  lawyer  uttered  a  stifled  exclamation  of  rage  as 
he  perceived  the  pit  into  which  he  had  fallen. 

"  He  would  find  nothing,"  resumed  Mascarin,  "  and 
yet  the  story  is  all  true.  Last  January,  on  a  bitterly 
cold  night,  you  dug  a  hole,  and  in  it  deposited  the  body 
of  a  new-born  infant  wrapped  in  a  shawl.  And  what 
shawl?  Why  the  very  one  that  you  purchased  at  the 
Bon  Marche,  when  you  were  making  yourself  agree- 
able to  Qarisse.  The  shopman  who  sold  it  to  you  has 
identified  it,  and  is  ready  to  give  evidence  when  called 
upon.  You  may  look  for  that  shawl,  Catenae,  but  you 
will  not  find  it." 

"  Have  you  got  that  shawl  ?'  asked  Catenae  hoarsely. 

"  Am  I  a  fool  ? "  asked  Mascarin  contemptuously. 
"Tantaine  has  it;  but  /  know  where  the  body  is,  and 
will  keep  the  information  to  myself.  Do  not  be 
alarmed;  act  fairly,  and  you  are  safe;  but  make  one 
treacherous  move,  and  you  will  read  in  the  next  day's 
papers  a  paragraph  something  to  this  effect :  '  Yester- 
day some  workmen,  engaged  in  excavations  near  so- 
and-so,  discovered  the  body  of  a  new-born  infant. 
Every  effort  is  being  made  to  discover  the  author  of 
the  crime/  You  know  me,  and  that  I  work  promptly. 
To  the  shawl  I  have  added  a  handkerchief  and  a  few 
other  articles  belonging  to  Clarisse,  which  will  render 
it  an  easy  matter  to  fix  the  guilt  on  you." 

Catenae  was  absolutely  stunned,  and  had  lost  all 
power  of  defending  himself.  The  few  incoherent  words 
that  he  uttered  showed  his  state  of  utter  despair. 

"  You  have  killed  me,"  gasped  he,  "  just  as  the  prize, 
that  I  have  been  looking  for  for  twenty  years,  was  in 
my  grasp." 


212  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  Work  does  a  man  no  harm,"  remarked  the  doctor 
sententiously. 

There  was,  however,  little  time  to  lose;  the  Marquis 
de  Croisenois  and  Paul  might  be  expected  to  arrive 
at  any  moment,  and  Mascarin  hastened  to  restore  a 
certain  amount  of  calmness  to  his  prostrate  an- 
tagonist. 

"You  make  as  much  noise  as  if  we  were  going  to 
hand  you  over  to  the  executioner  on  the  spot.  Do  you 
think  that  we  are  such  a  pair  of  fools  as  to  risk  all 
these  hazards  without  some  almost  certain  chance  of 
success?  Hortebise  was  as  much  startled  as  yourself 
when  I  first  spoke  to  him  of  this  affair,  but  I  ex- 
plained everything  fully  to  him,  and  now  he  is  quite 
enthusiastic  in  the  matter.  Of  course  you  can  lay  aside 
all  fear,  and,  as  a  man  of  the  world,  will  bear  no 
malice  against  those  who  have  simply  played  a  better 
game  than  yourself." 

"  Go  on,"  said  Catenae,  forcing  a  smile.  "  I  am 
listening." 

Mascarin  made  a  short  pause. 

"What  we  want  of  you,"  answered  he,  "will  not 
compromise  you  in  the  slightest  degree.  I  wish  you  to 
draw  up  a  document,  the  particulars  of  which  I  will 
give  you  presently,  and  you  will  outwardly  have  no 
connection  with  the  matter." 

"Very  good." 

"  But  there  is  more  yet.  The  Duke  of  Champdoce 
has  placed  a  difficult  task  in  your  hands.  You  are 
engaged  in  a  secret  on  his  behalf." 

"  You  know  that  also  ?  " 

"  I  know  everything  that  may  be  made  subservient 
to  our  ends.  I  also  know  that  instead  of  coming  direct 
to  me  you  went  to  the  very  man  that  we  have  every 


A  TURN   OF  THE   SCREW  213 

reason  to  dread,  that  fellow  Perpignan,  who  is  nearly 
as  sharp  as  we  are." 

"  Go  on,"  returned  Catenae  impatiently.  "  What  do 
you  expect  from  me  on  this  point  ?  " 

"  Not  much ;  you  must  only  come  to  me  first,  and 
report  any  discovery  you  may  have  made,  and  never 
give  any  information  to  the  Duke  without  first  con- 
sulting us." 

"I  agree." 

The  contending  parties  seemed  to  have  arrived  at  an 
amicable  termination,  and  Dr.  Hortebise  smiled  com- 
placently. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "shall  we  not  confess,  after  all, 
that  there  was  no  use  in  making  such  a  fuss  ?  " 

"  I  allow  that  I  was  in  the  wrong,"  answered  Cate- 
nae meekly;  and,  extending  his  hands  to  his  two  asso- 
ciates with  an  oily  smile,  he  said:  "Let  us  forget  and 
forgive." 

Was  he  to  be  trusted?  Mascarin  and  the  doctor  ex- 
changed glances  of  suspicion.  A  moment  afterward  a 
knock  came  to  the  door,  and  Paul  entered,  making  a 
timid  bow  to  his  two  patrons. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  Mascarin,  "  let  me  present  you 
to  one  of  my  oldest  and  best  friends."  Then,  turning 
to  Catenae,  he  added :  "  I  wish  to  ask  you  to  help  and 
assist  my  young  friend  here.  Paul  Violaine  is  a  good 
fellow,  who  has  neither  father  nor  mother,  and  whom 
we  are  trying  to  help  on  in  his  journey  through  life." 

The  lawyer  started  as  he  caught  the  strange,  mean- 
ing smile  which  accompanied  these  words. 

"  Great  heavens !  "  said  he,  "  why  did  you  not  speak 
sooner  ?  " 

Catenae  at  once  divined  Mascarin's  project,  and  un- 
derstood the  allusion  to  the  Duke  de  Champdoce. 


214  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

SOME  SCRAPS  OF  PAPER. 

THE  Marquis  de  Croisenois  was  never  punctual.  He 
had  received  a  note  asking  him  to  call  on  Mascarin  at 
eleven  o'clock,  and  twelve  had  struck  some  time  before 
he  made  his  appearance.  Faultlessly  gloved,  his  glass 
firmly  fixed  in  his  eye,  and  a  light  walking  cane  in  his 
hand,  and  with  that  air  of  half-veiled  insolence  that 
is  sometimes  affected  by  certain  persons  who  wish  the 
world  to  believe  that  they  are  of  great  importance,  the 
Marquis  de  Croisenois  entered  the  room. 

At  the  age  of  twenty-five  Henry  de  Croisenois  affect- 
ed the  airs  and  manners  of  a  lad  of  twenty,  and  so 
found  many  who  looked  upon  his  escapades  with  lenient 
eyes,  ascribing  them  to  the  follies  of  youth.  Under 
this  youthful  mask,  however  he  concealed  a  most 
astute  and  cunning  intellect,  and  had  more  than  once 
got  the  better  of  the  women  with  whom  he  had  had 
dealings.  His  fortune  was  terribly  involved,  because 
he  had  insisted  on  living  at  the  same  rate  as  men  who 
had  ten  times  his  income.  Forming  one  of  the  reck- 
lessly extravagant  band  of  which  the  Duke  de  Sau- 
meine  was  the  head,  Croisenois,  too,  kept  his  race- 
horses, which  was  certainly  the  quickest  way  to  wreck 
the  most  princely  fortune.  The  Marquis  had  found 
out  this,  and  was  utterly  involved,  when  Mascarin  ex- 
tended a  helping  hand  to  him,  to  which  he  clung  with 
all  the  energy  of  a  drowning  man. 

Whatever  Henry  de  Croisenois'  anxieties  may  have 
been  on  the  day  in  question,  he  did  not  allow  a  symp- 


SOME   SCRAPS   OF   PAPER  215 

torn  of  them  to  appear,  and  on  his  entrance  negligently 
drawled,  "  I  have  kept  you  waiting,  I  fear ;  but  really 
my  time  is  not  my  own.  I  am  quite  at  your  service 
now,  and  will  wait  until  these  gentlemen  have  finished 
their  business  with  you."  And  as  he  concluded,  he 
again  placed  the  cigar  which  he  had  removed  while 
saying  these  words,  to  his  lips. 

His  manner  was  very  insolent,  and  yet  the  amiable 
Mascarin  did  not  seem  offended,  although  he  loathed 
the  scent  of  tobacco. 

"  We  had  begun  to  despair  of  seeing  you,  Marquis," 
answered  he  politely.  "  I  say  so,  because  these  gentle- 
men are  here  to  meet  you.  Permit  me  to  introduce  to 
you,  Dr.  Hortebise,  M.  Catenae  of  the  Parisian 
bar,  and  our  secretary,"  pointing  as  he  spoke,  to 
Paul. 

As  soon  as  Croisenois  had  taken  his  seat,  Mascarin 
went  straight  to  the  point,  as  a  bullet  to  the  target. 
"I  do  not  intend,"  began  he,  "to  leave  you  in  doubt 
for  a  moment.  Beatings  about  the  bush  would  be  ab- 
surd among  persons  like  ourselves." 

At  finding  himself  thus  classed  with  the  other  per- 
sons present,  the  Marquis  gave  a  little  start,  and  then 
drawled  out,  "You  flatter  me,  really." 

"  I  may  tell  you,  Marquis,"  resumed  Mascarin,  "that 
your  marriage  has  been  definitely  arranged  by  myself 
and  my  associates.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  get  the 
young  lady's  consent,  for  that  of  the  Count  and 
Countess  has  already  been  secured.'* 

"There  will  be  no  difficulty  in  that,"  lisped  the 
Marquis.  "I  will  promise  her  the  best  horsed  car- 
riage in  the  Bois,  a  box  at  the  opera,  unlimited  credit 
at  Van  Klopen's,  and  perfect  freedom.  There  will  be 
no  difficulty,  I  assure  you.  Of  course,  however,  I  must 


216  CAUGHT  IN   THE   NET 

be  presented  by  some  one  who  holds  a  good  position 
in  society." 

"  Would  the  Viscountess  de  Bois  Arden  suit  you  ?  " 

"No  one  better;  she  is  a  relation  of  the  Count  de 
Mussidan." 

"  Good ;  then  when  you  wish,  Madame  de  Bois  Ar- 
den will  introduce  you  as  a  suitor  for  the  young  lady's 
hand,  and  praise  you  up  to  the  skies." 

The  Marquis  looked  very  jubilant  at  hearing  this. 
"  All  right,"  cried  he ;  "  then  that  decides  the  matter." 

Paul  wondered  whether  he  was  awake  or  dreaming. 
He  too  had  been  promised  a  rich  wife,  and  here  was 
another  man  who  was  being  provided  for  in  the  same 
manner.  "  These  people,"  muttered  he,  "  seem  to  keep 
a  matrimonial  agency  as  well  as  a  servants'  registry 
office ! " 

"  All  that  is  left,  then,"  said  the  Marquis,  "  is  to  ar- 
range the — shall  I  call  it  the  commission?" 

"  I  was  about  to  come  to  that,"  returned  Mascarin. 

"  Well,  I  will  give  you  a  fourth  of  the  dowry,  and 
on  the  day  of  my  marriage  will  hand  you  a  cheque  for 
that  amount." 

Paul  now  imagined  that  he  saw  how  matters  worked. 
"If  I  marry  Flavia,"  thought  he,  "I  shall  have  to 
share  her  dowry  with  these  highly  respectable  gentle- 
men." 

The  offer  made  by  the  Marquis  did  not,  however, 
seem  to  please  Mascarin.  "  That  is  not  what  we  want/' 
said  he. 

"No, — well,  must  I  give  you  more?  Say  how 
much." 

Mascarin  shook  his  head. 

"  Well  then,  I  will  give  you  a  third ;  it  is  not  worth 
while  to  give  you  more." 


SOME   SCRAPS   OF   PAPER  217 

"  No,  no ;  I  would  not  take  half,  nor  even  the 
whole  of  the  dowry.  You  may  keep  that  as  well  as 
what  you  owe  us." 

"  Well,  but  tell  me  what  you  do  want" 

"I  will  do  so,"  answered  Mascarin,  adjusting  his 
spectacles  carefully;  "but  before  doing  so,  I  feel  that 
I  must  give  you  a  short  account  of  the  rise  and  prog- 
ress of  this  association." 

At  this  statement  Hortebise  and  Catenae  sprang  to 
their  feet  in  surprise  and  terror.  "  Are  you  mad  ?  " 
said  they  at  length,  with  one  voice. 

Mascarin  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Not  yet,"  answered  he  gently,  "  and  I  beg  that  you 
will  permit  me  to  go  on." 

"  But  surely  we  have  some  voice  in  the  matter,"  fal- 
tered Catenae. 

"  That  is  enough,"  exclaimed  Mascarin  angrily.  "Am 
not  I  the  head  of  this  association?  Do  you  think," 
he  continued  in  tones  of  deep  sarcasm,  "  that  we  cannot 
speak  openly  before  the  Marquis?" 

Hortebise  and  the  lawyer  resignedly  resumed  their 
seats.  Croisenois  thought  that  a  word  from  him  might 
reassure  them. 

"  Among  honest  men "  began  he. 

"  We  are  not  honest  men,"  interrupted  Mascarin. 
"  Sir,"  added  he  in  a  severe  tone,  "  nor  are  you 
either." 

This  plain  speaking  brought  a  bright  flush  to  the 
face  of  the  Marquis,  who  had  half  a  mind  to  be  angry, 
but  policy  restrained  him,  and  he  affected  to  look  on 
the  matter  as  a  joke.  "  Your  joke  is  a  little  per- 
sonal," said  he. 

But  Mascarin  took  no  heed  of  his  remark.  "  Listen 
to  me/'  said  he,  "  for  we  have  no  time  to  waste,  and 


218  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

do  you/'  he  added,  turning  to  Paul,  "  pay  the  greatest 
attention/' 

A  moment  of  perfect  silence  ensued,  broken  only  by 
the  hum  of  voices  in  the  outer  office. 

"  Marquis,"  said  Mascarin,  whose  whole  face  blazed 
with  a  gleam  of  conscious  power,  "  twenty-five  years 
ago  I  and  my  associates  were  young  and  in  a  very 
different  position.  We  were  honest  then,  and  all  the 
illusions  of  youth  were  in  full  force ;  we  had  faith  and 
hope.  We  all  then  tenanted  a  wretched  garret  in  the 
Rue  de  la  Harpe,  and  loved  each  other  like  brothers/' 
"  That  was  long,  long  ago,"  murmured  Hortebise. 
"  Yes,"  rejoined  Mascarin ;  "  and  yet  the  effluxion 
of  times  does  not  hinder  me  from  seeing  things  as  they 
then  were,  and  my  heart  aches  as  I  compare  the  hopes 
of  those  days  with  the  realities  of  the  present.  Then, 
Marquis,  we  were  poor,  miserably  poor,  and  yet  we  all 
had  vague  hopes  of  future  greatness/' 

Croisenois  endeavored  to  conceal  a  sneer;  the  story 
was  not  a  very  interesting  one. 

"  As  I  said  before,  each  one  of  us  anticipated  a 
brilliant  career.  Catenae  had  gained  a  prize  by  his 
'  Treatise  on  the  Transfer  of  Real  Estate,'  and  Horte- 
bise had  written  a  pamphlet  regarding  which  the  great 
Orfila  had  testified  approval.  Nor  was  I  without  my 
successes.  Hortebise  had  unluckily  quarrelled  with  his 
family.  Catenae's  relatives  were  poor,  and  I,  well,  I 
had  no  family.  I  stood  alone.  We  were  literally  starv- 
ing, and  I  was  the  only  one  earning  money.  I  pre- 
pared pupils  for  the  military  colleges,  but  as  I  only 
earned  thirty-five  sous  a  day  by  cramming  a  dull  boy's 
brain  with  algebra  and  geometry,  that  was  not  enough 
to  feed  us  all.  Well,  to  cut  a  long  story  short,  the  day 
came  when  we  had  not  a  coin  among  us.  I  forgot  to 


SOME    SCRAPS    OF   PAPER  219 

tell  you  that  I  was  devotedly  attached  to  a  young  girl 
who  was  dying  of  consumption,  and  who  had  neither 
food  nor  fuel.  What  could  I  do  ?  I  knew  not.  Half  mad, 
I  rushed  from  the  house,  asking  myself  if  I  had  bet- 
ter plead  for  charity  or  take  the  money  I  required  by 
force  from  the  first  passer-by.  I  wandered  along  the 
quays,  half  inclined  to  confide  my  sorrow  to  the  Seine, 
when  suddenly  I  remembered  it  was  a  holiday  at  the 
Polytechnic  School,  and  that  if  I  went  to  the  Cafe 
Semblon  or  the  Palais  Royal,  I  should  most  likely  meet 
with  some  of  my  old  pupils,  who  could  perhaps  lend 
me  a  few  sous.  Five  francs  perhaps,  Marquis, — that  is 
a  very  small  sum,  but  in  that  day  it  meant  the  life 
of  my  dear  Marie  and  of  my  two  friends.  Hare  you 
ever  been  hungry,  M.  de  Croisenois  ?  " 

De  Croisenois  started;  he  had  never  suffered  from 
hunger,  but  how  could  he  tell  what  the  future  might 
bring  ?  for  his  resources  were  so  nearly  exhausted,  that 
even  to-morrow  he  might  be  compelled  to  discard  his 
fictitious  splendor  and  sink  into  the  abyss  of  poverty. 

"  When  I  reached  the  Cafe  Semblon/'  continued 
Mascarin,  "I  could  not  see  a  single  pupil,  and  the 
waiter  to  whom  I  addressed  my  inquiries  looked  at  me 
with  the  utmost  contempt,  for  my  clothes  were  in  tat- 
ters ;  but  at  length  he  condescended  to  inform  me  that 
the  young  gentlemen  had  been  and  gone,  but  that  they 
would  return.  I  said  that  I  would  wait  for  them.  The 
man  asked  me  if  I  would  take  anything,  and  when  I 
replied  in  the  negative,  contemptuously  pointed  to  a 
chair  in  a  distant  corner,  where*  I  patiently  took  my 
seat.  I  had  sat  for  some  time,  when  suddenly  a  young 
man  entered  the  cafe,  whose  face,  were  I  to  live  for  a 
century,  I  shall  never  forget.  He  was  perfectly  livid, 
his  features  rigid,  and  his  eyes  wild  and  full  of  anguish. 


220  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

He  was  evidently  in  intense  agony  of  mind  or  body. 
Evidently,  however,  it  was  not  poverty  that  was  op- 
pressing him,  for  as  he  cast  himself  upon  a  sofa,  all 
the  waiters  rushed  forward  to  receive  his  orders.  In 
a  voice  that  was  almost  unintelligible,  he  asked  for  a 
bottle  of  brandy,  and  pen,  ink,  and  paper.  In  some 
mysterious  manner,  the  sight  of  this  suffering  brought 
balm  to  my  aching  heart.  The  order  of  the  young  man 
was  soon  executed,  and  pouring  out  a  tumbler  of 
brandy,  he  took  a  deep  draught.  The  effect  was  in- 
stantaneous, he  turned  crimson,  and  for  a  moment  al- 
most fell  back  insensible.  I  still  kept  my  eyes  on  him, 
for  a  voice  within  me  kept  crying  out  that  there  was 
some  mysterious  link  connecting  this  man  and  myself, 
and  that  his  life  was  in  some  manner  interwoven  with 
mine,  and  that  the  influence  he  would  exercise  over  me 
would  be  for  evil.  So  strongly  did  this  idea  become 
rooted,  that  I  should  have  left  the  cafe,  had  not  my 
curiosity  been  so  great.  In  the  meantime  the  stranger 
had  recovered  himself,  and  seizing  a  pen,  scrawled  a 
few  lines  on  a  sheet  of  paper.  Evidently  he  was  not 
satisfied  with  his  composition,  for  after  reading  it  over, 
he  lit  a  match  and  burnt  the  paper.  He  drank  more 
brandy,  and  wrote  a  second  letter,  which,  too,  proved 
a  failure,  for  he  tore  it  to  fragments,  which  he  thrust 
into  his  waistcoat  pocket.  Again  he  commenced,  using 
greater  care.  It  was  plain  that  he  had  forgotten  where 
he  was,  for  he  gesticulated,  uttered  a  broken  sentence 
or  two  and  evidently  believed  that  he  was  in  his  own 
house.  His  last  letter  seemed  to  satisfy  him,  and  he 
recopied  it  with  care.  He  closed  and  directed  it ;  then, 
tearing  the  original  into  pieces,  he  flung  it  under  the 
table ;  then  calling  the  waiter,  he  said,  '  Here  are 
twenty  francs;  take  this  letter  to  the  address  on  the 


SOME   SCRAPS   OF   PAPER  221 

envelope.  Bring  the  answer  to  my  house;  here  is  my 
card.'  The  man  ran  out  of  the  room,  and  the  noble- 
man, only  waiting  to  pay  his  bill,  followed  almost  im- 
mediately. The  morsels  of  white  paper  beneath  the 
table  had  a  strange  fascination  for  me;  I  longed  to 
gather  them  up,  to  put  them  together,  and  to  learn  the 
secret  of  the  strange  drama  that  had  been  acted  before 
me.  But,  as  I  have  told  you,  then  I  was  honest  and 
virtuous,  and  the  meanness  of  such  an  act  revolted  all 
my  instincts;  and  I  should  have  overcome  this  tempta- 
tion, had  it  not  been  for  one  of  those  trifling  incidents 
which  too  often  form  the  turning-point  of  a  life.  A 
draught  from  a  suddenly  opened  door  caught  one  of 
these  morsels  of  paper,  and  wafted  it  to  my  feet.  I 
stooped  and  picked  it  up,  and  read  on  it  the  ominous 
words,  '  blow  out  my  brains ! '  I  had  not  been  mis- 
taken, then,  and  was  face  to  face  with  some  coming 
tragedy.  Having  once  yielded,  I  made  no  further  ef- 
forts at  self-control.  The  waiters  were  running  about ; 
no  one  paid  any  attention  to  me;  and  creeping  to  the 
place  that  the  unknown  had  occupied,  I  obtained  pos- 
session of  two  more  scraps  of  paper.  Upon  one  I  read, 
'  shame  and  horror ! '  upon  the  other,  '  one  hundred 
thousand  francs  by  to-night/  The  meaning  of  these 
few  words  were  as  clear  as  daylight  to  me;  but  for 
all  that,  I  managed  to  collect  every  atom  of  the  torn 
paper,  and  piecing  them  together,  read  this: — 

" '  CHARLES,— 

'  I  must  have  one  hundred  thousand  francs  to-night, 
and  you  are  the  only  one  to  whom  I  can  apply.  The 
shame  and  horror  of  my  position  are  too  much  for  me. 
Can  you  send  it  me  in  two  hours?  As  you  act,  so  I 
regulate  my  conduct.  I  am  either  saved,  or  I  blow  out 
my  brains/ 


222  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"You  are  probably  surprised,  Marquis,  at  the  ac- 
curacy of  my  memory,  and  even  now  I  can  see  this 
scrawl  as  distinctly  as  if  it  were  before  me.  At  the 
end  of  this  scrawl  was  a  signature,  one  of  the  best 
known  commercial  names,  which,  in  common  with 
other  financial  houses,  was  struggling  against  a  panic 
on  the  Bourse.  My  discovery  disturbed  me  very  much. 
I  forgot  all  my  miseries,  and  thought  only  of  his. 
Were  not  our  positions  entirely  similar?  But  by  de- 
grees a  hideous  temptation  began  to  creep  into  my 
heart,  and,  as  the  minutes  passed  by,  assume  more 
vivid  color  and  more  tangible  reality.  Why  should  I 
not  profit  by  this  stolen  secret?  I  went  to  the  desk 
and  asked  for  some  wafers  and  a  Directory.  Then,  re- 
turning, I  fastened  the  torn  fragments  upon  a  clean 
sheet  of  paper,  discovered  the  address  of  the  writer,  and 
then  left  the  cafe.  The  house  was  situated  in  the  Rue 
Chaussee  d'Autin.  For  fully  half  an  hour  I  paced  up 
and  down  before  his  magnificent  dwelling-place.  Was 
he  alive  ?  Had  the  reply  of  Charles  been  in  the  affirma- 
tive? I  decided  at  last  to  venture,  and  rang  the  bell. 
A  liveried  domestic  appeared  at  my  summons,  and  said 
that  his  master  did  not  receive  visitors  at  that  hour; 
besides,  he  was  at  dinner.  I  was  exasperated  at  the 
man's  insolence,  and  replied  hotly, '  If  you  want  to  save 
your  master  from  a  terrible  misfortune,  go  and  tell  him 
that  a  man  has  brought  him  the  rough  draft  of  the 
letter  he  wrote  a  little  time  back  at  the  Cafe  Semblon' 
The  man  obeyed  me  without  a  word,  no  doubt  im- 
pressed by  the  earnestness  of  my  manner.  My  mes- 
sage must  have  caused  intense  consternation,  for  in  a 
moment  the  footman  reappeared,  and,  in  an  obsequious 
manner,  said,  '  Follow  at  once,  sir ;  my  master  is  wait- 
ing for  you/  He  led  me  into  a  large  room,  magnifi- 


SOME   SCRAPS   OF   PAPER  223 

cently  furnished  as  a  library,  and  in  the  centre  of  this 
room  stood  the  man  of  the  Cafe  Semblon.  His  face 
was  deadly  pale,  and  his  eyes  blazed  with  fury.  I  was 
so  agitated  that  I  could  hardly  speak. 

"*You  have  picked  up  the  scraps  of  paper  I  threw 
away?'  exclaimed  he. 

"  I  nodded,  and  showed  him  the  fragments  fastened 
on  to  the  sheet  of  note-paper. 

"  'How  much  do  you  want  for  that  ? '  asked  he.  '  I 
will  give  you  a  thousand  francs/ 

"  I  declare  to  you,  gentlemen,  that  up  to  this  time 
I  had  no  intention  of  making  money  by  the  secret.  My 
intention  in  going  had  been  simply  to  say,  '  I  bring 
you  this  paper,  of  which  some  one  else  might  have 
taken  an  undue  advantage.  I  have  done  you  a  service ; 
lend  me  a  hundred  francs.'  This  is  what  I  meant 
to  say,  but  his  behavior  irritated  me,  and  I  an- 
swered,— 

" '  No,  I  want  two  thousand  francs/ 

"  He  opened  a  drawer,  drew  out  a  bundle  of  bank- 
notes, and  threw  them  in  my  face. 

"  'Pay  yourself,  you  villain ! '  said  he. 

"  I  can,  I  fear,  never  make  you  understand  what  I 
felt  at  this  undeserved  insult.  I  was  not  myself,  and 
Heaven  knows  that  I  was  not  responsible  for  any  crime 
that  I  might  have  committed  in  the  frenzy  of  the  mo- 
ment, and  I  was  nearly  doing  so.  That  man  will,  per- 
haps, never  see  death  so  near  him,  save  at  his  last  hour. 
On  his  writing  table  lay  one  of  those  Catalan  daggers, 
which  he  evidently  used  as  a  paper-cutter.  I  snatched 
it  up,  and  was  about  to  strike,  when  the  recollection 
of  Marie  dying  of  cold  and  starvation  occurred  to  me. 
I  dashed  the  knife  to  the  ground,  and  rushed  from  the 
house  in  a  state  bordering  on  insanity.  I  went  into 


224  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

that  house  an  honest  man,  and  left  it  a  degraded  scoun- 
drel. But  I  must  finish.  When  I  reached  the  street, 
the  two  banknotes  which  I  had  taken  from  the  packet 
seemed  to  burn  me  like  coals  of  fire.  I  hastened  to  a 
money-changer,  and  got  coin  for  them.  I  think,  from 
my  demeanor,  he  must  have  thought  that  I  was  insane. 
With  my  plunder  weighing  me  down,  I  regained  our 
wretched  garret  in  the  Rue  de  la  Harpe.  Catenae  and 
Hortebise  were  waiting  for  me  with  the  utmost  anxiety. 
You  remember  that  day,  my  friends.  Marquis,  my 
story  is  especially  intended  for  you.  As  soon  as  I 
entered  the  room,  my  friends  ran  up  to  me,  delighted 
at  seeing  me  return  in  safety,  but  I  thrust  them 
aside. 

"  'Let  me  alone ! '  cried  I ;  'I  am  no  longer  fit  to 
take  an  honest  man's  hand;  but  we  have  money, 
money ! '  And  I  threw  the  bags  upon  the  table.  One 
of  them  burst,  and  a  flood  of  silver  coins  rolled  to 
every  part  of  the  room. 

"  Marie  started  from  her  chair  with  upraised  hands. 
'Money!'  she  repeated,  'money!  we  shall  have  food, 
and  I  won't  die.' 

"  My  friends,  Marquis,  were  not  as  they  are  now, 
and  they  started  back  in  horror,  fearing  that  I  had 
committed  some  crime. 

" '  No/  said  I,  '  I  have  committed  no  crime,  not  one, 
at  least,  that  will  bring  me  within  the  reach  of  the 
strong  arm  of  the  law.  This  money  is  the  price  of 
our  honor,  but  no  one  will  know  that  fact  but  our- 
selves.' 

"  Marquis,  there  was  no  sleeping  in  the  garret  all  that 
night;  but  when  daylight  peered  through  the  broken 
windows,  it  beamed  on  a  table  covered  with  empty 
bottles,  and  round  it  were  seated  three  men,  who,  hav- 


AN   INFAMOUS   TRADE  225 

ing  cast  aside  all  honorable  scruples,  had  sworn  that 
they  would  arrive  at  wealth  and  prosperity  by  any 
means,  no  matter  how  foul  and  treacherous  they  might 
be.  That  is  all." 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

AN  INFAMOUS  TRADE. 

MASCARIN,  who  was  anxious  to  make  as  deep  an  im- 
pression as  possible  upon  Croisenois  and  Paul,  broke 
off  his  story  abruptly,  and  paced  up  and  down  the 
room.  Had  his  intention  been  to  startle  his  audience, 
he  had  most  certainly  succeeded.  Paul  was  breathless 
with  interest,  and  Croisenois  broke  down  in  attempt- 
ing to  make  one  of  his  usual  trivial  remarks.  He  was 
not  particularly  intelligent,  except  as  regarded  his  self- 
interests,  and  though,  of  course,  he  knew  that  there 
must  be  some  connection  between  his  interests  and  the 
recital  that  Mascarin  had  just  made,  he  could  not  for 
the  life  of  him  make  out  what  it  was.  Mascarin  seemed 
utterly  careless  of  the  effect  that  he  had  produced. 
But  the  next  time  that  his  walk  brought  him  to  his 
desk  he  stopped,  and,  adjusting  his  glasses,  said,  "  I 
trust,  Marquis,  that  you  will  forgive  this  long  prelimi- 
nary address,  which  would  really  make  a  good  sensa- 
tional novel;  but  we  have  now  arrived  at  the  really 
practical  part  of  the  business."  As  he  said  these 
words,  he  took  up  an  imposing  attitude,  with  his  elbow 
resting  on  the  mantelpiece. 

"  On  the  night  of  which  I  have  spoken,  I  and  my 
friends  released  ourselves  from  all  the  bonds  of  virtue 


235  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

and  honor,  and  freed  ourselves  from  all  the  fetters  of 
duty  to  our  fellow-men.  The  plan  emanated  from  my 
brain  complete  in  all  its  details  in  the  will  I  made 
twenty  years  ago  to  my  friends.  Marquis,  as  the  sum- 
mer goes  on,  you  know  that  the  ripest  and  reddest 
cherries  are  the  fullest  flavored,  just  so,  in  the  noblest 
and  wealthiest  of  families  in  Paris  there  is  not  one 
that  has  not  some  terrible  and  ghostly  secret  which  is 
sedulously  concealed.  Now,  suppose  that  one  man 
should  gain  possession  of  all  of  them,  would  he  not 
be  sole  and  absolute  master?  Would  he  not  be  more 
powerful  than  a  cjespot  on  his  throne?  Would  he  not 
be  able  to  sway  society  in  any  manner  he  might  think 
fit?  Well,  I  said  to  myself,  I  will  be  that  man ! " 

Ever  since  the  Marquis  had  been  in  relation  with 
Mascarin,  he  had  shrewdly  suspected  that  his  business 
was  not  conducted  on  really  fair  principles. 

"What  you  mention,"  said  he,  "is  nothing  but  an 
elaborate  and  extended  system  of  blackmail." 

Mascarin  bowed  low,  with  an  ironical  smile  on  his 
face.  "  Just  so,  Marquis,  just  so ;  you  have  hit  on  the 
very  name.  The  word  is  modern,  but  the  operation 
doubtless  dates  from  the  earliest  ages.  The  day  upon 
which  one  man  began  to  trade  upon  the  guilty  secret 
of  another  was  the  date  of  the  institution  of  this  line 
of  business.  If  antiquity  makes  a  thing  respectable, 
then  blackmailing  is  worthy  of  great  respect." 

"  But,  sir,"  said  the  Marquis,  with  a  flush  upon  his 
face,  "but,  sir " 

"  Pshaw  !  "  broke  in  Mascarin,  "  does  a  mere  word 
frighten  you?  Who  has  not  done  some  of  it  in  his 
time?  Why,  look  at  yourself.  Do  you  not  recollect 
this  winter  that  you  detected  a  young  man  cheating  at 
cards?  You  said  nothing  to  him  at  the  time,  but  you 


AN   INFAMOUS   TRADE  227 

found  out  that  he  was  rich,  and,  calling  upon  him  the 
next  day,  borrowed  ten  thousand  francs.  When  do  you 
intend  to  repay  that  loan  ?  " 

Croisenois  sank  back  in  his  chair,  overcome  with  sur- 
prise at  this  display  of  knowledge  on  Mascarin's  part. 
"  This  is  too  terrible/'  muttered  he,  but  Mascarin  went 
on,— 

"I  know,  at  least,  two  thousand  persons  in  Paris 
who  only  exist  by  the  exercise  of  this  profession;  for 
I  have  studied  them  all,  from  the  convict  who  screws 
money  out  of  his  former  companions,  in  penal  servi- 
tude, to  the  titled  villain,  who,  having  discovered  the 
frailty  of  some  unhappy  woman,  forces  her  to  give 
him  her  daughter  as  his  wife.  I  know  a  mere  messen- 
ger in  the  Rue  Douai,  who  in  five  years  amassed  a 
comfortable  fortune.  Can  you  guess  how?  When  he 
was  intrusted  with  a  letter,  he  invariably  opened  it, 
and  made  himself  master  of  the  contents,  and  if  there 
was  a  compromising  word  in  it,  he  pounced  down  upon 
either  the  writer  or  the  person  to  whom  it  was  ad- 
dressed. I  also  know  of  one  large  limited  company 
which  pays  an  annual  income  to  a  scoundrel  with  half 
a  dozen  foreign  orders,  who  has  found  out  that  they 
have  broken  their  statutes  of  association,  and  holds 
proofs  of  their  having  done  so.  But  the  police  are  on 
the  alert,  and  our  courts  deal  rery  severely  with  black- 
mailers." 

Mascarin  went  on :  "  The  English,  however,  are  our 
masters,  for  in  London  a  compromising  servant  is  as 
easily  negotiable  as  a  sound  bill  of  exchange.  There 
is  in  the  city  a  respectable  jeweller,  who  will  advance 
money  on  any  compromising  letter  with  a  good  name 
at  the  foot.  His  shop  is  a  regular  pawnshop  of  in- 
famy. In  the  States  it  has  been  elevated  to  the  dig- 


228  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

nity  of  a  profession,  and  the  citizen  at  New  York 
dreads  the  blackmailers  more  than  the  police,  if  he  is 
meditating  some  dishonorable  action.  Our  first  oper- 
ations did  not  bring  in  any  quick  returns,  and  the  har- 
vest promised  to  be  a  late  one ;  but  you  have  come  upon 
us  just  as  we  are  about  to  reap  our  harvest.  The  pro- 
fessions of  Hortebise  and  Catenae — the  one  a  doctor 
and  the  other  a  lawyer — facilitated  our  operations 
greatly.  One  administered  to  the  diseases  of  the  body, 
and  the  other  to  that  of  the  purse,  and,  of  course,  thus 
they  became  the  possessors  of  many  secrets.  As  for 
me,  the  head  and  chief,  it  would  not  do  to  remain  an 
idle  looker-on.  Our  funds  had  dwindled  down  a  good 
deal,  and,  after  mature  consideration,  I  decided  to  hire 
this  house,  and  open  a  Servants'  Registry  Office.  Such 
an  occupation  would  not  attract  any  attention,  and  in 
the  end  it  turned  out  a  perfect  success,  as  my  friends 
can  testify." 

Catenae  and  Hortebise  both  nodded  assent. 

"By  the  system  which  I  have  adopted,"  resume  a 
Mascarin,  "  the  wealthy  and  respectable  man  is  as 
strictly  watched  in  his  own  house  as  is  the  condemned 
wretch  in  his  cell;  for  no  act  of  his  escapes  the  eyes 
of  the  servants  whom  we  have  placed  around  him.  He 
can  hardly  even  conceal  his  thoughts  from  us.  Even 
the  very  secret  that  he  has  murmured  to  his  wife  with 
closed  doors  reaches  our  ears." 

The  Marquis  gave  a  supercilious  smile. 

"  You  must  have  had  some  inkling  of  this,"  observed 
Mascarin,  "  for  you  have  never  taken  a  servant  from 
our  establishment;  but  for  all  that,  I  am  as  well 
posted  up  in  your  affairs  as  yourself.  You  have 
even  now  about  you  a  valet  of  whom  you  know 
nothing." 


AN   INFAMOUS   TRADE  229 

"  Morel  was  recommended  to  me  by  one  of  my  most 
intimate  friends— Sir  Richard  Wakefield." 

"  But  for  all  that  I  have  my  suspicions  of  him ;  but 
we  will  talk  of  this  later,  and  we  will  now  return  to 
the  subject  upon  which  we  have  met.  As  I  told  you, 
I  conceal  the  immense  power  I  had  attained  through 
our  agency,  and  use  it  as  occas/on  presents  itself,  and 
after  twenty  years'  patient  labor,  I  am  about  to  reap  a 
stupendous  harvest.  The  police  pay  enormous  sums 
to  their  secret  agents,  while  I,  without  opening  my 
purse,  have  an  army  of  devoted  adherents.  I  see  per- 
haps fifty  servants  of  both  sexes  daily;  calculate  what 
this  will  amount  to  in  a  year." 

There  was  an  air  of  complacency  about  the  man  as 
he  explained  the  working  of  his  system,  and  a  ring  of 
triumph  in  his  voice. 

"You  must  not  think  that  all  my  agents  are  in  my 
secrets,  for  the  greater  part  of  them  are  quite  unaware 
of  what  they  are  doing,  and  in  this  lies  my  strength. 
Each  of  them  brings  me  a  slender  thread,  which  I  twine 
into  the  mighty  cord  by  which  I  hold  my  slaves.  These 
unsuspecting  agents  remind  me  of  those  strange  Bra- 
zilian birds,  whose  presence  is  a  sure  sign  that  water 
is  to  be  found  near  at  hand.  When  one  of  them  utters 
a  note,  I  dig,  and  I  find.  And  now,  Marquis,  do  you 
understand  the  aim  and  end  of  our  association?" 

"  It  has,"  remarked  Hortebise  quietly,  "  brought  us 
in  some  years  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs 
apiece." 

If  M.  de  Croisenois  disliked  prosy  tales,  he  by  no 
means  underrated  the  eloquence  of  figures.  He  knew 
quite  enough  of  Paris  to  understand  that  if  Mascarin 
threw  his  net  regularly,  he  would  infallibly  catch  many 
fish.  With  this  conviction  firmly  implanted  in  his  mind, 


230  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

he  did  not  require  much  urging  to  look  with  favor 
on  the  scheme,  and,  putting  on  a  gracious  smile,  he  now 
asked,  "  And  what  must  I  do  to  deserve  admission  into 
this  association  ?  " 

Paul  had  listened  in  wonder  and  terror,  but  by  de- 
grees all  feelings  of  disgust  at  the  criminality  of  these 
men  faded  away  before  the  power  that  they  unques- 
tionably possessed. 

"  If/'  resumed  Mascarin,  "  we  have  up  to  this  met 
with  no  serious  obstacles,  it  is  because,  though  ap- 
parently acting  rashly,  we  are  in  reality  most  prudent 
and  cautious.  We  have  managed  our  slaves  well,  and 
have  not  driven  any  one  to  desperation.  But  we  are 
beginning  to  weary  of  our  profession;  we  are  getting 
old,  and  we  have  need  of  repose.  We  intend,  there- 
fore, to  retire,  but  before  that  we  wish  to  have  all  mat- 
ters securely  settled.  I  have  an  immense  mass  of  doc- 
umentary evidence,  but  it  is  not  always  easy  to  realize 
the  value  they  represent,  and  I  wait  upon  your  assist- 
ance to  enable  me  to  do  so." 

Croisenois'  face  fell.  Was  he  to  take  compromising 
letters  round  to  his  acquaintances  and  boldly  say, 
"Your  purse  or  your  honor  ?"  He  had  no  objection, 
to  share  the  profits  of  this  ignoble  trade,  but  he  ob- 
jected strongly  to  showing  his  connection  with  it 
openly.  "  No,  no/'  cried  he  hastily,  "  you  must  not  de- 
pend upon  me." 

He  seemed  so  much  in  earnest  that  Hortebise  and 
Catenae  exchanged  glances  of  dismay. 

"  Let  us  have  no  nonsense,"  returned  Mascarin  stern- 
ly, "and  wait  a  little  before  you  display  so  much 
fierceness.  I  told  you  that  my  documentary  evidence 
was  of  a  peculiar  kind.  We  very  often  find  among  our 
fish  married  people  who  cannot  deal  with  their  per- 


AN   INFAMOUS   TRADE  231 

sonal  property.  A  husband,  for  instance,  will  say,  '  I 
can't  take  ten  thousand  francs  without  my  wife  know- 
ing of  it.'  Women  say,  'Why,  I  get  all  my  money 
through  my  husband/  and  both  are  telling  the  truth. 
They  kneel  at  my  feet  and  entreat  me  to  have  mercy, 
saying,  '  Find  me  some  excuse  for  using  a  portion  of 
my  funds  and  you  shall  have  more  than  you  ask.'  For 
a  long  time  I  have  sought  for  this  means,  and  at  last 
I  have  found  it  in  the  Limited  Company,  which  you, 
Marquis,  will  float  next  month." 

"  Really ! "  returned  the  Marquis.  "  I  do  not  see " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon ;  you  see  it  all  clearly.  A  hus- 
band who  cannot,  without  fear  of  disturbing  his  do- 
mestic peace,  put  in  five  thousand  francs,  can  put  in 
ten  thousand  if  he  tells  his  wife,  '  It  is  an  investment ;' 
and  many  a  wife  who  has  not  any  money  of  her  own 
will  persuade  her  husband  to  bring  in  the  money  we 
require  by  the  proposal  to  take  shares.  Now,  what  do 
you  say  to  the  idea?" 

"I  think  that  it  is  an  excellent  one,  but  what  part 
am  I  to  play  in  it?" 

"  In  taking  the  part  of  Chairman  of  the  Company. 
I  could  not  do  so,  being  merely  the  proprietor  of  a 
Servants'  Registry  Office.  Hortebise,  as  a  doctor,  and 
more  than  all  a  homoeopath,  would  inspire  no  confi- 
dence, and  Catenae's  legal  profession  prevents  him  ap- 
pearing in  the  matter  openly.  He  will  act  as  our  legal 
adviser." 

"  But  really  I  do  not  see  anything  about  me  that 
would  induce  people  to  invest,"  remarked  De  Croise- 
nois. 

"You  are  too  modest;  you  have  your  name  and 
rank,  which,  however  we  may  look  upon  them,  have  a 
great  effect  upon  the  general  public.  There  are  many 


232  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Companies  who  pay  directors  of  rank  and  creditable 
connection  very  largely.  Before  starting  this  enter- 
prise you  can  settle  all  your  debts,  and  the  world  will 
then  conclude  that  you  are  possessed  of  great  wealth, 
while,  at  the  same  time,  the  news  of  your  approaching 
marriage  with  Mademoiselle  de  Mussidan  will  be  the 
general  talk  of  society.  What  better  position  could 
you  be  in?" 

"  But  I  have  the  reputation  of  being  a  reckless  spend- 
thrift." 

"  All  the  better.  The  day  the  prospectus  comes  out 
with  your  name  at  the  head  of  it,  there  will  be  a  uni- 
versal burst  of  laughter.  Men  will  say,  e  Do  you  see 
what  Croisenois  is  at  now?  What  on  earth  possessed 
him  to  go  into  Company  work  ? '  But  as  this  proceed- 
ing on  your  part  will  have  paid  your  debts  and  given 
you  Mademoiselle  Sabine's  dowry,  I  think  that  the 
laugh  will  be  on  your  side." 

The  prospect  dazzled  De  Croisenois. 

"And  suppose  I  accept,"  asked  he,  "what  w:ll  be 
the  end  of  the  farce?" 

"Very  simple.  When  all  the  shares  are  taken  up, 
you  will  close  the  office  and  let  the  Company  look  after 
itself." 

Croisenois  started  to  his  feet  angrily.  "  Why,"  cried 
he,  "  you  intend  to  make  a  catspaw  of  me !  Such  a 
proceeding  would  send  me  to  penal  servitude." 

"What  an  ungrateful  man  he  is!"  said  Mascarin, 
appealing  to  his  audience,  "  when  I  am  doing  all  I  can 
to  prevent  his  going  there." 

"  Sir ! " 

But  Catenae  now  felt  it  time  to  interfere.  "  You  do 
not  understand,"  remarked  he,  addressing  Croisenois. 
"You  will  start  a  Company  for  the  development  of 


AN   INFAMOUS   TRADE  233 

some  native  product,  let  us  say  Pyrenean  marble,  for 
instance,  issue  a  prospectus,  and  the  shares  will  be  at 
once  taken  up  by  Mascarin's  clients." 

"Well,  what  happens  then?" 

"Why,  out  of  the  funds  thus  obtained  we  will  take 
care  when  the  crash  comes  to  reimburse  any  outsiders 
who  may  have  taken  shares  in  the  concern,  telling  them 
that  the  thing  has  been  a  failure,  and  that  we  are 
ruined;  while  Mascarin  will  take  care  to  obtain  from 
all  his  clients  a  discharge  in  full,  so  the  Company  will 
quietly  collapse." 

"  But,"  objected  the  Marquis,  "  all  the  shareholders 
will  know  that  I  am  a  rogue." 

"  Naturally." 

"  They  would  hold  me  in  utter  contempt." 

"  Perhaps  so,  but  they  would  never  venture  to  let 
you  see  it.  I  never  thought  that  you  would  make  ob- 
jections; and  whose  character,  however  deep,  will  bear 
investigation  ?  " 

"  Are  you  sure  that  you  hold  your  people  securely  ?  " 
asked  he ;  "  and  that  none  of  them  will  turn  surly  ?  " 

Mascarin  was  waiting  for  this  question,  and  taking 
from  his  desk  the  pieces  of  cardboard  which  he  took 
so  much  pains  to  arrange,  he  replied,  "  I  have  here  the 
names  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  people  who  will  each 
invest  ten  thousand  francs  in  the  Company.  Listen 
to  me,  and  judge  for  yourself." 

He  put  all  three  pieces  of  cardboard  together,  and 
then  drawing  out  one  he  read, — 

" '  N ,  civil  engineer.  Five  letters  written  by  him 

to  the  gentleman  who  procured  his  appointment  for 
him :  worth  fifteen  thousand  francs/ 

" '  P ,  merchant.  Absolute  proof  that  his  last 

bankruptcy  was  a  fraudulent  one,  and  that  he  kept  back 


234  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

from  his  creditors  two  hundred  thousand  francs.  Good 
for  twenty  thousand  francs.' 

" '  Madame  V .  A  photograph  taken  in  very 

light  and  airy  costume.  Poor,  but  can  pay  three  thou- 
sand francs.' 

" '  M.  H .  Three  letters  from  her  mother,  pror- 

ing  that  the  daughter  had  compromised  herself  before 
marriage.  Letter  from  a  monthly  nurse  appended.  Can 
be  made  to  pay  ten  thousand  francs/ 

" '  L .  A  song  both  impious  and  obscene.  Good 

for  two  thousand  francs.' 

« t  S ,  head  clerk  in  a  Limited  Company ;  proof 

of  a  false  account.  Can  be  made  to  pay  fifteen  thou- 
sand francs.' 

"'X ,  a  portion  of  his  correspondence  with 

L in  1848.  Three  thousand  francs.' 

" '  Madame  M.  de  M .  A  true  history  of  her 

adventure  with  M.  J .' " 

This  sample  was  quite  sufficient  to  satisfy  M.  de 
Croisenois.  "  Enough,"  cried  he,  "  I  yield.  I  bow  be- 
fore your  gigantic  power,  which  utterly  surpasses  that 
of  the  police.  Give  me  your  orders/' 

Before  this  Mascarin  had  conquered  Hortebise  and 
Paul  Violaine,  and  now  he  had  the  Marquis  at  his  feet. 
Many  times  during  this  conversation  the  Marquis  had 
more  than  once  endeavored  to  make  up  his  mind  to 
withdraw  entirely  from  the  business,  but  he  had  been 
unable  to  resist  the  strange  fascination  of  that  mysteri- 
ous person  who  had  been  laying  bare  his  scheme  with 
such  extraordinary  audacity.  The  few  vestiges  of  hon- 
esty that  were  still  left  in  his  corrupted  soul  revolted 
at  the  thought  of  the  shameful  compact  into  which  he 
was  about  to  enter,  but  the  dazzling  prospect  held  out 
before  his  eyes  silenced  his  scruples,  and  he  felt  a  cer- 


AN   INFAMOUS   TRADE  235 

tain  pride  in  being  the  associate  of  men  who  possessed 
such  seemingly  illimitable  power.  Mascarin  saw  that 
there  was  no  longer  any  necessity  for  the  extreme  firm- 
ness with  which  he  had  before  spoken,  and  it  was  with 
the  most  studied  courtesy  that  he  replied :  "  I  have  no 
orders  to  give  you,  Marquis,  our  interests  are  identical, 
and  we  must  all  have  a  voice  in  the  deliberations  as 
to  the  best  means  of  carrying  them  out." 

This  change  from  hauteur  to  suavity  gratified  Croise- 
nois'  pride  immensely. 

"  Now,"  continued  Mascarin,  "  let  us  speak  of  your 
own  circumstances.  You  wrote  to  me  recently  that  you 
had  nothing,  and  I  am  aware  that  you  have  no  expecta- 
tions for  the  future." 

"Excuse  me,  but  there  is  the  fortune  of  my  poor 
brother  George,  who  disappeared  so  mysteriously." 

"  Let  me  assure  you,"  answered  Mascarin,  "  that 
we  had  better  be  perfectly  frank  with  each  other." 

"  And  am  I  not  so  ?  "  answered  the  Marquis. 

"  Why,  in  talking  of  this  imaginary  fortune  ?  " 

"It  is  not  imaginary;  it  is  real,  and  a  very  large 
one,  too,  about  twelve  or  fourteen  hundred  thousand 
francs,  and  I  can  obtain  it,  for,  by  Articles  127  and  129 
of  the  Code  Napoleon " 

He  interrupted  himself,  as  he  saw  an  expression  of 
hardly-restrained  laughter  upon  the  features  of  Dr. 
Hortebise. 

"  Do  not  talk  nonsense,"  answered  Mascarin.  "  You 
could  at  first  have  filed  an  affidavit  regarding  your 
brother's  disappearance,  and  applied  to  the  Court  to  ap- 
point you  trustee,  but  this  is  now  exactly  what  you  wish 
to  avoid." 

"  Why  not,  pray?    Do  you  think " 

"  Pooh,  pooh,,  but  you  have  raised  so  much  money 


236  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

on  this  inheritance  that  there  is  nothing  of  it  left 
hardly,  certainly  not  sufficient  to  pay  your  debts.  It 
is  the  bait  you  used  to  allure  your  tradespeople  into 
giving  you  credit." 

At  finding  himself  so  easily  fathomed,  Croisenois 
burst  into  a  peal  of  laughter.  Mascarin  had  by  this 
time  thrown  himself  into  an  armchair,  as  though  utterly 
worn  out  by  fatigue. 

"  There  is  no  necessity,  Marquis,"  said  he,  "  to  detain 
you  here  longer.  We  shall  meet  again  shortly,  and  set- 
tle matters.  Meanwhile  Catenae  will  draw  up  the  pros- 
pectus and  Articles  of  Association  of  the  proposed 
Company,  and  post  you  up  in  the  financial  slang  of 
which  you  must  occasionally  make  use." 

The  Marquis  and  the  lawyer  at  once  rose  and  took 
their  leave.  As  soon  as  the  door  had  closed  behind 
them,  Mascarin  seemed  to  recover  his  energy. 

"Well,  Paul,"  said  he,  "what  do  you  think  of  all 
this?" 

Like  all  men  with  weak  and  ductile  natures,  Paul, 
after  being  almost  prostrated  by  the  first  discovery  of 
his  master's  villainy,  had  now  succeeded  in  smothering 
the  dictates  of  his  conscience,  and  adopted  a  cynical 
tone  quite  worthy  of  his  companions. 

"  I  see,"  said  he,  "  that  you  have  need  of  me.  Well, 
I  am  not  a  Marquis,  but  you  will  find  me  quite  as  trust- 
worthy and  obedient." 

Paul's  reply  did  not  seem  to  surprise  Mascarin,  but 
it  is  doubtful  whether  he  was  pleased  by  it,  for  his 
countenance  showed  traces  of  a  struggle  between  ex- 
treme satisfaction  and  intense  annoyance,  while  the 
doctor  was  surprised  at  the  cool  audacity  of  the  young 
man  whose  mind  he  had  undertaken  to  form. 

Paul  was  a  little  disturbed  by  the  long  and  continued 


AN   INFAMOUS   TRADE  237 

silence  of  his  patron,  and  at  last  he  ventured  to  say 
timidly, — 

"  Well,  sir,  I  am  anxious  to  know  under  what  condi- 
tions I  am  to  be  shown  the  way  to  make  my  fortune 
and  marry  Mademoiselle  Flavia  Rigal,  whom  I  love/' 

Mascarin  gave  a  diabolical  smile. 

"  Whose  dowry  you  love/'  he  observed.  "  Let  us 
speak  plainly." 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,  I  said  just  what  I  meant." 

The  doctor,  who  had  not  Mascarin's  reasons  for 
gravity,  now  burst  into  a  jovial  laugh. 

"And  that  pretty  Rose/'  said  he,  "what  of  her?" 

"  Rose  is  a  creature  of  the  past,"  answered  Paul.  "  I 
can  now  see  what  an  idiot  I  was,  and  I  have  entirely 
effaced  her  from  my  memory,  and  I  am  half  inclined  to 
deplore  that  Mademoiselle  Rigal  is  an  heiress,  the 
more  so  if  it  is  to  form  a  barrier  between  us." 

This  declaration  seemed  to  make  Mascarin  more 
easy. 

"  Reassure  yourself,  my  boy,"  said  he,  "  we  will  re- 
move that  barrier ;  but  I  will  not  conceal  from  you  that 
the  part  you  have  to  play  is  much  more  difficult  than 
that  assigned  to  the  Marquis  de  Croisenois;  but  if  it 
is  harder  and  more  perilous,  the  reward  will  be  pro- 
portionately greater." 

"  With  your  aid  and  advice  I  feel  capable  of  doing 
everything  necessary/'  returned  Paul. 

"You  will  need  great  self-confidence,  the  utmost 
self-possession,  and  as  a  commencement  you  must 
utterly  destroy  your  present  identity." 

"That  I  will  do  with  the  utmost  willingness." 

"You  must  become  another  person  entirely;  you 
must  adopt  his  name,  his  gait,  his  behavior,  his  virtues, 
and  even  his  failings.  You  must  forget  all  that  you 


238  CAUGHT   IN  THE  NET 

have  cither  said  or  done.  You  must  always  think  that 
you  are  in  reality  the  person  you  represent  yourself  to 
be,  for  this  is  the  only  way  in  which  you  can  lead 
others  into  a  similar  belief.  Your  task  will  be  a  heavy 
one." 

"Ah,  sir,"  cried  the  young  man,  enthusiastically, 
"  can  you  doubt  me  ?  " 

"  The  glorious  beam  of  success  that  shines  ahead 
of  you  will  take  your  attention  from  the  difficulties  and 
dangers  of  the  road  that  you  are  treading." 

The  genial  Dr.  Hortebise  rubbed  his  hands. 

*  You  are  right,"  cried  he,  "  quite  right." 

"  When  you  have  done  this,"  resumed  Mascarin, 
"we  shall  not  hesitate  to  acquaint  you  with  the  secret 
of  the  lofty  destiny  that  awaits  you.  Do  you  under- 
stand me  fully?" 

Here  the  speaker  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of 
Beaumarchef,  who  had  signified  his  desire  to  come  in 
by  three  distinct  raps  upon  the  door.  He  was  now 
gorgeous  to  look  upon,  for  having  taken  advantage  of 
a  spare  half  hour,  he  had  donned  his  best  clothes, 

"What  is  it?"  demanded  Mascarin. 

"  Here  are  two  letters,  sir." 

"  Thank  you ;  hand  them  to  me,  and  leave  us." 

As  soon  as  they  were  once  more  alone,  Mascarin  ex- 
amined the  letters. 

"Ah,"  cried  he,  "one  from  Van  Klopen,  and  the 
other  from  the  Hotel  de  Mussidan.  Let  us  first  see 
what  our  friend  the  man-milliner  has  to  say. 

"DEAR  SIR,— 

"  You  may  be  at  ease.  Our  mutual  friend  Verminet 
has  executed  your  orders  most  adroitly.  At  his  instiga- 
tion Gaston  de  Gandelu  has  forged  the  banker  Martin 
RigaFs  signature  on  five  different  bills.  I  hold  them, 


AN   INFAMOUS   TRADE  239 

and  awaiting  your  further  orders  regarding  them,  and 
also  with  respect  to  Madame  de  Bois  Arden, 
"  I  remain  your  obedient  servant, 

"VAN  KLOPEN." 

Tossing  it  on  the  table,  Mascarin  opened  the  other 
letter,  which  he  also  read  aloud. 

"  SIR,— 

"  I  have  to  report  to  you  the  breaking  off  of  the  mar- 
riage between  Mademoiselle  Sabine  and  M.  de  Breulh- 
Faverlay.  Mademoiselle  is  very  ill,  and  I  heard  the 
medical  man  say  that  she  might  not  survive  the  next 
twenty-four  hours. 

"FLORESTAN." 

Mascarin  was  so  filled  with  rage  on  learning  this 
piece  of  news,  which  seemed  likely  to  interfere  with  his 
plans,  that  he  struck  his  hand  down  heavily  on  the 
table. 

"  Damnation !  "  cried  he.  "  If  this  little  fool  should 
die  now,  all  our  work  will  have  to  be  recommenced." 

He  thrust  aside  his  chair,  and  paced  hurriedly  up  and 
down  the  room. 

"  Florestan  is  right,"  said  he ;  "  this  illness  of  the  girl 
comes  on  at  the  date  of  the  rupture  of  the  engagement 
There  is  some  secret  that  we  must  learn,  for  we  dare 
not  work  in  the  dark." 

"Shall  I  go  to  the  Hotel  de  Mussidan?"  asked 
Hortebise. 

"Not  a  bad  idea.  Your  carriage  is  waiting,  is  it 
not?  You  can  go  in  your  capacity  as  a  medical  man." 

The  doctor  was  preparing  to  go,  when  Mascarin  ar- 
rested his  progress. 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  I  have  changed  my  mind.  We  mus* 
neither  of  us  be  seen  near  the  place.  I  expect  that  one 
of  our  mines  has  exploded;  that  the  Count  and 


240  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Countess  have  exchanged  confidences,  and  that  between 
the  two  the  daughter  has  been  struck  down." 

"How  shall  we  find  this  out?" 

*  I  will  see  Florestan  and  try  and  find  out." 

In  an  instant  he  vanished  into  his  inner  room,  and  as 
he  changed  his  dress,  continued  to  converse  with  the 
doctor. 

"  This  blow  would  be  comparatively  trifling,  if  I  had 
not  so  much  on  hand,  but  I  have  Paul  to  look  after. 
The  Champdoce  affair  must  be  pressed  on,  for  Catenae, 
the  traitor,  has  put  the  Duke  and  Perpignan  into  com- 
munication. I  must  see  Perpignan  and  discover  how 
much  has  been  told  him,  and  how  much  he  has  guessed. 
I  will  also  see  Caroline  Schimmel,  and  extract  some- 
thing from  her.  I  wish  to  heaven  that  there  were 
thirty-six  hours  in  the  day  instead  of  only  twenty- 
four." 

By  this  time  he  had  completed  his  change  of  cos- 
tume and  called  the  doctor  into  his  room. 

"  I  am  off,  now,"  whispered  he ;  "  do  not  lose  sight 
of  Paul  for  a  single  instant,  for  we  are  not  sufficiently 
sure  of  him  to  let  him  go  about  alone  with  our  secret 
in  his  possession.  Take  him  to  dine  at  Martin  Rigal's, 
and  then  make  some  excuse  for  keeping  him  all  night 
at  your  rooms.  See  me  to-morrow." 

And  he  went  out  so  hurriedly  that  he  did  not  hear 
the  cheery  voice  of  the  doctor  calling  after  him,— 

"  Good  luck;  I  wish  you  all  good  luck." 


A  FRIENDLY  RIVAL  841 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

A    FRIENDLY    RIVAL. 

ON  leaving  the  Hotel  de  Mussidan,  M.  de  Breulh- 
Faverlay  dismissed  his  carriage,  for  he  felt  as  a  man 
often  does  after  experiencing  some  violent  emotion, 
the  absolute  necessity  for  exercise,  and  to  be  alone  with 
his  thoughts,  and  by  so  doing  recover  his  self-posses- 
sion. His  friends  would  have  been  surprised  if  they 
had  seen  him  pacing  hurriedly  along  the  Champs 
Elysees.  The  usual  calm  of  his  manner  had  vanished, 
and  the  generally  calm  expression  of  his  features  was 
entirely  absent.  As  he  walked,  he  talked  to  himself, 
and  gesticulated. 

"  And  this  is  what  we  call  being  a  man  of  the  world. 
We  think  ourselves  true  philosophers,  and  a  look  from 
a  pair  of  beautiful,  pleading  eyes  scatters  all  our  the- 
ories to  the  winds." 

He  had  loved  Sabine  upon  the  day  on  which  he  had 
asked  for  her  hand,  but  not  so  fondly  as  upon  this  day 
when  he  had  learned  that  she  could  no  longer  be  his 
wife,  for,  from  the  moment  he  had  made  this  discovery, 
she  seemed  to  him  more  gifted  and  fascinating  than 
ever.  No  one  could  have  believed  that  he,  the  idol  of 
society,  the  petted  darling  oi  the  women,  and  the  suc- 
cessful rival  of  the  men,  could  have  been  refused  by 
the  young  girl  to  whom  he  had  offered  his  hand. 

"Yes,"  murmured  he  with  a  sigh,  "she  is  just  the 
companion  for  life  that  I  longed  for.  Where  could  I 
find  so  intelligent  an  intellect  and  so  pure  a  mind, 
united  with  such  radiant  beauty,  so  different  from  the 


242  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

women  of  society,  who  live  but  for  dress  and  gossip. 
Has  Sabine  anything  in  common  with  those  giddy  girls 
who  look  upon  life  as  a  perpetual  valse,  and  who 
take  a  husband  as  they  do  a  partner,  because  they 
cannot  dance  without  one?  How  her  face  lighted  up 
as  she  spoke  of  him,  and  how  thoroughly  she  puts  faith 
in  him !  The  end  of  it  all  is  that  I  shall  die  a  bachelor. 
In  my  old  age  I  will  take  to  the  pleasures  of  the  table, 
for  an  excellent  authority  declares  that  a  man  can 
enjoy  his  four  meals  a  day  with  comfort.  Well,  that 
is  something  to  look  forward  to  certainly,  and  it  will 
not  impair  my  digestion  if  my  heirs  and  expectants 
come  and  squabble  round  my  armchair.  Ah,"  he  added, 
with  a  deep  sigh,  "  my  life  has  been  a  failure." 

M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay  was  a  very  different  type 
of  man  to  that  which  both  his  friends  and  his  enemies 
popularly  supposed  him  to  be.  Upon  the  death  of  his 
uncle,  he  had  plunged  into  the  frivolous  vortex  of 
Parisian  dissipation,  but  of  this  he  had  soon  wearied. 

All  that  he  had  cared  for  was  to  see  the  doings  of 
his  racehorse  chronicled  in  the  sporting  journals,  and 
occasionally  to  expend  a  few  thousand  francs  in 
presents  of  jewelry  to  some  fashionable  actress.  But 
he  had  secretly  longed  for  some  more  honorable  man- 
ner of  fulfilling  his  duties  in  life,  and  he  had  deter- 
mined that  before  his  marriage  he  would  sell  his  stud 
and  break  with  his  old  associates  entirely;  and  now 
this  wished-for  marriage  would  never  take  place. 

When  he  entered  his  club,  the  traces  of  his  agita- 
tion were  so  visible  upon  his  face,  that  some  of  the 
card-players  stopped  their  game  to  inquire  if  Cham- 
bertin,  the  favorite  for  the  Chantilly  cup,  had  broken 
down. 

"  No,  no,"  replied  he,  as  he  hurriedly  made  his  way 


A  FRIENDLY  RIVAL  243 

to  the  writing-room,  "  Chambertin  is  as  sound  as  a 
bell." 

"What  the  deuce  has  happened  to  De  Breulh?" 
asked  one  of  the  members. 

"  Goodness  gracious ! "  remarked  the  man  to  whom 
the  question  was  addressed,  "  he  seems  in  a  hurry  to 
write  a  letter." 

The  gentleman  was  right.  M.  de  Breulh  was  writing 
a  withdrawal  from  his  demand  for  Sabine's  hand  to 
M.  de  Mussidan,  and  he  found  the  task  by  no  means 
an  easy  one,  for  on  reading  it  over  he  found  that  there 
was  a  valid  strain  of  bitterness  throughout  it,  which 
would  surely  attract  attention  and  perhaps  cause  em- 
barrassing questions  to  be  put  to  him. 

"  No,"  murmured  he,  "  this  letter  is  quite  unworthy 
of  me."  And  tearing  it  up,  he  began  another,  in  which 
he  strung  together  several  conventional  excuses,  alleg- 
ing the  difficulty  of  breaking  off  his  former  habits  and 
of  an  awkward  entanglement  which  he  had  been  un- 
able to  break  with,  as  he  had  anticipated.  When  this 
little  masterpiece  of  diplomacy  was  completed,  he  rang 
the  bell,  and,  handing  it  to  one  of  the  club  servants, 
told  him  to  take  it  to  the  Count  de  Mussidans'  house. 
When  this  unpleasant  duty  was  over,  M.  de  Breulh 
had  hoped  to  experience  some  feeling  of  relief,  but  in 
this  he  was  mistaken.  He  tried  cards,  but  rose  from 
the  table  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour;  he  ordered  dinner, 
but  appetite  was  wanting;  he  went  to  the  opera,  but 
there  he  did  nothing  but  yawn,  and  the  music  grated 
on  his  nerves.  At  length  he  returned  home.  The  day 
had  seemed  interminable,  and  he  could  not  sleep,  for 
Sabine's  face  was  ever  before  him.  Who  could  this 
man  be  whom  she  so  fondly  loved  and  preferred  be- 
fore all  others  ?  He  respected  her  too  much  not  to  feel 


244  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

assured  that  her  choice  was  a  worthy  one,  but  his 
experience  had  taught  him  that  when  so  many  men  of 
the  world  fell  into  strange  entanglements,  a  poor  girl 
without  knowledge  of  the  dangers  around  her  might 
easily  be  entrapped.  "  If  he  is  worthy  of  her/' 
thought  he,  "  I  will  do  my  best  to  aid  her ;  but  if  not, 
I  will  open  her  eyes." 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  he  was  still  seated 
musing  before  the  expiring  embers  of  his  fire;  he  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  see  Andre — there  was  no  diffi- 
culty in  this,  for  a  man  of  taste  and  wealth  can  find 
a  ready  excuse  for  visiting  the  studio  of  a  struggling 
artist.  He  had  no  fixed  plan  as  to  what  he  would 
say  or  do,  he  left  that  all  to  chance,  and  with  this 
decision  he  went  to  bed,  and  by  two  in  the  afternoon 
he  drove  straight  to  the  Rue  de  la  Tour  d'Auvergne. 

Andre's  discreet  portress  was  as  usual  leaning  on 
her  broom  in  the  gallery  as  M.  de  Breulh's  magnificent 
equipage  drew  up. 

"  Gracious  me !  "  exclaimed  the  worthy  woman,  daz- 
zled by  the  gorgeousness  of  the  whole  turnout;  "he 
can't  be  coming  here,  he  must  have  mistaken  the 
house." 

But  her  amazement  reached  its  height  when  M.  de 
Breulh,  on  alighting,  asked  for  Andre. 

"  Fourth  story,  first  door  to  the  right,"  answered  the 
woman ;  "  but  I  will  show  you  the  way." 

"Don't  trouble  yourself;"  and  with  these  words  M. 
de  Breulh  ascended  the  staircase  that  led  to  the  paint- 
er's studio  and  knocked  at  the  door.  As  he  did  so,  he 
heard  a  quick,  light  step  upon  the  stairs,  and  a  young 
and  very  dark  man,  dressed  in  a  weaver's  blouse  and 
carrying  a  tin  pail  which  he  had  evidently  just  filled 
with  water  from  the  cistern,  came  up. 


A   FRIENDLY   RIVAL  245 

"Are  you  M.  Andre?"  asked  De  Breulh. 

"That  is  my  name,  sir." 

"  I  wish  to  say  a  few  words  to  you." 

"  Pray  come  in/'  replied  the  young  artist,  opening 
the  door  of  his  studio  and  ushering  his  visitor  in. 
Andre's  voice  and  expression  had  made  a  favorable 
impression  upon  his  visitor;  but  he  was,  in  spite  of 
his  having  thrown  aside  nearly  all  foolish  prejudices, 
a  little  startled  at  his  costume.  He  did  not,  however, 
allow  his  surprise  to  be  visible. 

"  I  ought  to  apologize  for  receiving  you  like  this," 
remarked  Andre  quickly,  "but  a  poor  man  must  wait 
upon  himself."  As  he  spoke,  he  threw  off  his  blouse 
and  set  down  the  pail  in  a  corner  of  the  room. 

"  I  rather  should  offer  my  excuse  for  my  intrusion," 
returned  M.  de  Breulh.  "  I  came  here  by  the  advice 
of  one  of  my  friends;"  he  stopped  for  an  instant, 
endeavoring  to  think  of  a  name. 

"  By  Prince  Crescensi,  perhaps,"  suggested  Andre. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  continued  M.  de  Breulh,  eagerly  snatch- 
ing at  the  rope  the  artist  held  out  to  him.  "The 
Prince  sings  your  praises  everywhere,  and  speaks  of 
your  talents  with  the  utmost  enthusiasm.  I  am,  on  his 
recommendation,  desirous  of  commissioning  you  to 
paint  a  picture  for  me,  and  I  can  assure  you  that  in 
my  gallery  it  will  have  no  need  to  be  ashamed  of  its 
companions." 

Andre  bowed,  coloring  deeply  at  the  compliment. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,"  said  he,  "  and  I  trust  that 
you  will  not  be  disappointed  in  taking  the  Prince's 
opinion  of  my  talent." 

"Why  should  I  be  so?" 

"Because,  for  the  last  four  months  I  have  been  so 
busy  that  I  have  really  nothing  to  show  you." 


246  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  That  is  of  no  importance.  I  have  every  confidence 
in  you." 

"Then/'  returned  Andre,  "all  that  we  have  to  do 
is  to  choose  a  subject." 

Andre's  manner  had  by  this  time  so  captivated  De 
Breulh  that  he  muttered  to  himself,  "  I  really  ought  to 
hate  this  fellow,  but  on  my  word  I  like  him  better 
than  any  one  I  have  met  for  a  long  time." 

Andre  had  by  this  time  placed  a  large  portfolio  on 
the  table.  "  Here,"  said  he,  "  are  some  twenty  or 
thirty  sketches;  if  any  of  them  took  your  fancy,  you 
could  make  your  choice." 

"  Let  me  see  them,"  returned  De  Breulh  politely, 
for  having  made  an  estimate  of  the  young  man's  char- 
acter, he  now  wished  to  see  what  his  artistic  talents 
were  like.  With  this  object  in  view  he  examined  all 
the  sketches  in  the  portfolio  minutely,  and  then  turned 
to  those  on  the  walls.  Andre  said  nothing,  but  he 
somehow  felt  that  this  visit  would  prove  the  turning- 
point  of  his  misfortunes.  But  for  all  that  the  young 
man's  heart  was  very  sad,  for  it  was  two  days  since 
Sabine  had  left  him,  promising  to  write  to  him  the 
next  morning  regarding  M.  de  Breulh- Faverlay,  but 
as  yet  he  had  received  no  communication,  and  he  was 
on  the  tenterhooks  of  expectation,  not  because  he  had 
any  doubt  of  Sabine,  but  for  the  reason  that  he  had 
no  means  of  obtaining  any  information  of  what  went 
on  in  the  interior  of  the  Hotel  de  Mussidan.  M.  de 
Breulh  had  now  finished  his  survey,  and  had  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  though  many  of  Andre's  produc- 
tions were  crude  and  lacking  in  finish,  yet  that  he  had 
the  true  artistic  metal  in  him.  He  extended  his  hand 
to  the  young  man  and  said  forcibly,  "  I  am  no  longer 
influenced  by  the  opinion  of  a  friend.  I  have  seen 


A   FRIENDLY   RIVAL  247 

and  judged  for  myself,  and  am  more  desirous  than 
ever  of  possessing  one  of  your  pictures.  I  have  made 
my  choice  of  a  subject,  and  now  let  us  discuss  the  de- 
tails." 

As  he  spoke  he  handed  a  little  sketch  to  Andre.  It 
was  a  view  of  everyday  life,  which  the  painter  had 
entitled,  "Outside  the  Barrier."  Two  men  with  torn 
garments  and  wine-flushed  faces  were  struggling  in 
tipsy  combat,  while  on  the  right  hand  side  of  the  pic- 
ture lay  a  woman,  bleeding  profusely  from  a  cut  on 
the  forehead,  and  two  of  her  terrified  companions  were 
bending  over  her,  endeavoring  to  restore  her  to  con- 
sciousness. In  the  background  were  some  flying  fig- 
ures, who  were  hastening  up  to  separate  the  com- 
batants. The  sketch  was  one  of  real  life,  denuded  of 
any  sham  element  of  romance,  and  this  was  the  one 
that  M.  de  Breulh  had  chosen.  The  two  men  discussed 
the  size  of  the  picture,  and  not  a  single  detail  was 
omitted. 

"  I  am  sure  that  you  will  do  all  that  is  right/'  re- 
marked De  Breulh.  "  Let  your  own  inspiration  guide 
you,  and  all  will  be  well."  In  reality  he  was  dying 
to  get  away,  for  he  felt  in  what  a  false  position  he  was, 
and  with  a  violent  effort  he  approached  the  money  part 
of  the  matter. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  Andre,  "  it  is  impossible  to  fix  a 
price;  when  completed,  a  picture  may  only  be  worth 
the  canvas  that  it  is  painted  on,  or  else  beyond  all 
price.  Let  us  wait." 

"  Well,"  broke  in  M.  de  Breulh,  "  what  do  you  say 
to  ten  thousand  francs  ?  " 

"Too  much,"  returned  Andre  with  a  deprecatory 
wave  of  his  hand ;  "  far  too  much.  If  I  succeed  in  it, 
as  I  hope  to  do,  I  will  ask  six  thousand  francs  for  it." 


248  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"Agreed!"  answered  De  Breulh,  taking  from  his 
pocket  an  elegant  note-case  with  his  crest  and  mono- 
gram upon  it  and  extracting  from  it  three  thousand 
francs.  "I  will,  as  is  usual,  deposit  half  the  price  in 
advance." 

Andre  blushed  scarlet.    "You  are  joking,"  said  he. 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  De  Breulh  quietly ;  "  I  have 
my  own  way  of  doing  business,  from  which  I  never 
deviate." 

In  spite  of  this  answer  Andre's  pride  was  hurt. 

"  But,"  remarked  he,  "  this  picture  will  not  be  ready 
for  perhaps  six  or  seven  months.  I  have  entered  into 
a  contract  with  a  wealthy  builder,  named  Candele,  to 
execute  the  outside  decorations  of  his  house." 

"  Never  mind  that,"  answered  M.  de  Breulh ;  "  take 
as  long  as  you  like." 

Of  course,  after  this,  Andre  could  offer  no  further 
opposition;  he  therefore  took  the  money  without  an- 
other word. 

"And  now,"  said  De  Breulh,  as  he  paused  for  a 
moment  at  the  open  doorway,  "let  me  wish  you  my 
good  luck,  and  if  you  will  come  and  breakfast  with  me 
one  day,  I  think  that  I  can  show  you  some  pictures 
which  you  will  really  appreciate."  And  handing  his 
card  to  the  artist,  he  went  downstairs. 

At  first  Andre  did  not  glance  at  the  card,  but  when 
he  did  so,  the  letters  seemed  to  sear  his  eyeballs  like 
a  red-hot  iron.  For  a  moment  he  could  hardly  breathe, 
and  then  a  feeling  of  intense  anger  took  possession  of 
him,  for  he  felt  that  he  had  been  trifled  with  and  de- 
ceived. 

Hardly  knowing  what  he  was  doing,  he  rushed  out 
on  the  landing,  and,  leaning  over  the  banister,  called 
out  loudly,  "  Sir,  stop  a  moment !  " 


A  FRIENDLY  RIVAL  249 

De  Breulh,  who  had  by  this  time  reached  the  bottom 
of  the  staircase,  turned  round. 

"  Come  back,  if  you  please/'  said  Andre. 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  De  Breulh  obeyed ;  and 
when  he  was  again  in  the  studio,  Andre  addressed  him 
in  a  voice  that  quivered  with  indignation. 

"  Take  back  these  notes,  sir;  I  will  not  accept  them." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Only  that  I  have  thought  the  matter  over,  and  that 
I  will  not  accept  your  commission." 

"And  why  this  sudden  change?" 

"  You  know  perfectly  well,  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay." 

The  gentleman  at  once  saw  that  Sabine  had  men- 
tioned his  name  to  the  young  artist,  and  with  a  slight 
lacking  of  generous  feeling  said, — 

"  Let  me  hear  your  reasons,  sir." 

"  Because,  because "  stammered  the  young  man. 

"  Because  is  no  answer." 

Andre's  confusion  became  greater.  He  would  not 
tell  the  whole  truth,  for  he  would  have  died  sooner 
than  bring  Sabine's  name  into  the  discussion;  and  he 
could  only  see  one  way  out  of  his  difficulty. 

"  Suppose  I  say  that  I  do  not  like  your  manner  or 
appearance,"  returned  he  disdainfully. 

"  Is  it  your  wish  to  insult  me,  M.  Andre  ?  " 

"  As  you  choose  to  take  it." 

M.  de  Breulh  was  not  gifted  with  an  immense  stock 
of  patience.  He  turned  livid,  and  made  a  step  for- 
ward; but  his  generous  impulses  restrained  him,  and 
it  was  in  a  voice  broken  by  agitation  that  he  said, — 

"Accept  my  apologies,  M.  Andre;  I  fear  that  I 
have  played  a  part  unworthy  both  of  you  and  of  my- 
self. I  ought  to  have  given  you  my  name  at  once.  I 
know  everything." 


250  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  I  do  not  comprehend  you,"  answered  Andre  in  a 
glacial  voice. 

"  Why  doubt,  then,  if  you  do  not  understand  ?  How- 
ever, I  have  given  you  cause  to  do  so.  But,  let  me  re- 
assure you,  Mademoiselle  Sabine  has  spoken  to  me 
with  the  utmost  frankness;  and,  if  you  still  distrust 
me,  let  me  tell  you  that  this  veiled  picture  is  her  por- 
trait. I  will  say  more,"  continued  De  Breulh  gravely, 
as  the  artist  still  kept  silent;  "yesterday,  at  Made- 
moiselle  de  Mussidan's  request,  I  withdrew  from  my 
position  as  a  suitor  for  her  hand." 

Andre  had  been  already  touched  by  De  Breulh's 
frank  and  open  manner,  and  these  last  words  entirely 
conquered  him. 

"  I  can  never  thank  you  enough/'  began  he. 

But  De  Breulh  interrupted  him. 

"A  man  should  not  be  thanked  for  performing  his 
duty.  I  should  lie  to  you  if  I  said  that  I  am  not 
painfully  surprised  at  her  communication;  but  tell  me, 
had  you  been  in  my  place,  would  you  not  have  acted 
in  the  same  manner?" 

"  I  think  that  I  should." 

"  And  now  we  are  friends,  are  we  not  ?  "  and  again 
De  Breulh  held  out  his  hand,  which  Andre  clasped  with 
enthusiasm. 

"Yes,  yes,"  faltered  he. 

"  And  now,"  continued  De  Breulh,  with  a  forced 
smile,  "  let  us  say  no  more  about  the  picture,  which 
was,  after  all,  merely  a  pretext.  As  I  came  here  I 
said  to  myself,  '  If  the  man  to  whom  Mademoiselle  de 
Mussidan  has  given  her  heart  is  worthy  of  her,  I  will 
do  all  I  can  to  advance  his  suit  with  her  family ! '  I 
came  here  to  see  what  you  were  like;  and  now  I  say 
to  you,  do  me  a  great  honor,  and  permit  me  to  olace 


A   FRIENDLY  RIVAL  251 

myself,  my  fortune,  and  the  influence  of  my  friends,  at 
your  disposal." 

The  offer  was  made  in  perfect  good  faith,  but  Andre 
shook  his  head. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  your  kindness  in  making  this 

offer,  but ";  he  paused  for  a  moment,  and  then 

went  on:  "I  will  be  as  open  as  you  have  been,  and 
will  tell  you  the  whole  truth.  You  may  think  me 
foolish;  but  remember,  though  I  am  poor,  I  have  still 
my  self-respect  to  maintain.  I  love  Sabine,  and  would 
give  my  life  for  her.  Do  not  be  offended  at  what  I 
am  about  to  say.  I  would,  however,  sooner  give  up 
her  hand  than  be  indebted  for  it  to  you." 

"  But  this  is  mere  madness." 

*'  No,  sir,  it  is  the  purest  wisdom ;  for  were  I  to 
accede  to  your  wishes,  I  should  feel  deeply  humiliated 
by  the  thought  of  your  self-denial;  for  I  should  be 
madly  jealous  of  the  part  you  were  playing.  You  are 
of  high  birth  and  princely  fortune,  while  I  am  utterly 
friendless  and  unknown;  all  that  I  am  deficient  in 
you  possess." 

"  But  I  have  been  poor  myself,"  interposed  De 
Breulh,  "  and  perhaps  endured  even  greater  miseries 
than  ever  you  have  done.  Do  you  know  what  I  was 
doing  at  your  age?  I  was  slowly  starving  to  death  at 
Sonora,  and  had  to  take  the  humblest  position  in  a 
cattle  ranch.  Do  you  think  that  those  days  taught  me 
nothing?" 

"  You  will  be  able  to  judge  me  all  the  more  clearly 
then,"  returned  Andre.  "  If  I  raise  myself  up  to 
Sabine's  level,  as  she  begged  me  to,  then  I  shall  feel 
that  I  am  your  equal;  but  if  I  accept  your  aid,  I  am 
your  dependent;  and  I  will  obey  her  wishes  or  perish 
in  the  effort" 


252  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Up  to  this  moment  the  passion  which  stirred  Andre's 
inmost  soul  had  breathed  in  every  word  he  uttered; 
but,  checking  himself  by  a  mighty  effort,  he  resumed 
in  a  tone  of  greater  calmness, — 

"But  I  ought  to  remember  how  much  we  already 
owe  you,  and  I  hope  that  you  will  allow  me  to  call 
myself  your  friend  ?  " 

M.  de  Breulh's  noble  nature  enabled  him  to  under- 
stand Andre's  scruples;  his  feelings,  however,  would 
not  for  the  instant  enable  him  to  speak.  He  slowly 
put  the  notes  back  in  their  receptacle,  and  then  said  in 
a  low  voice, — 

"Your  conduct  is  that  of  an  honorable  man;  and 
remember  this,  at  all  times  and  seasons  you  may  rely 
upon  De  Breulh-Faverlay.  Farewell !  " 

As  soon  as  he  was  alone,  Andre  threw  himself  into 
an  armchair,  and  mused  over  this  unexpected  inter- 
view, which  had  proved  a  source  of  such  solace  to  his 
feelings.  All  that  he  now  longed  for  was  a  letter  from 
Sabine.  At  this  moment  the  portress  entered  with  a 
letter.  Andre  was  so  occupied  with  his  thoughts  that 
he  hardly  noticed  this  act  of  condescension  on  the  part 
of  the  worthy  woman. 

"  A  letter ! "  exclaimed  he ;  and,  tearing  it  open,  he 
glanced  at  the  signature.  But  Sabine's  name  was  not 
there;  it  was  signed  Modeste.  What  could  Sabine's 
maid  have  to  say  to  him?  He  felt  that  some  great 
misfortune  was  impending,  and,  trembling  with  excite- 
ment, he  read  the  letter. 

"SIR,— 

"  I  write  to  tell  you  that  my  mistress  has  succeeded 
in  the  matter  she  spoke  of  to  you;  but  I  am  sorry  to 
say  that  I  have  bad  news  to  give  you,  for  she  is  seri- 
ously ill." 


A   COUNCIL   OF   WAR  253 

"  111 ! "  exclaimed  Andre,  crushing  up  the  letter  in 
his  hands,  and  dashing  it  upon  the  floor.  "  111 !  ill !  " 
he  repeated,  not  heeding  the  presence  of  the  portress; 
"why,  she  may  be  dead;"  and,  snatching  up  his  hat, 
he  dashed  downstairs  into  the  street. 

As  soon  as  the  portress  was  left  alone,  she  picked 
up  the  letter,  smoothed  it  out,  and  read  it. 

"And  so/'  murmured  she,  "the  little  lady's  name 
was  Sabine — a  pretty  name;  and  she  is  ill,  is  she? 
I  expect  that  the  old  gent  who  called  this  morning,  and 
asked  so  many  questions  about  M.  Andre,  would  give 
a  good  deal  for  this  note;  but  no,  that  would  not  be 
fair." 


CHAPTER   XX. 

A  COUNCIL  OF  WAR. 

MAD  with  his  terrible  forebodings,  Andre  hurried 
through  the  streets  in  the  direction  of  the  Hotel  de 
Mussidan,  caring  little  for  the  attention  that  his  ex- 
cited looks  and  gestures  caused.  He  had  no  fixed  plan 
as  to  what  to  do  when  he  arrived  there,  and  it  was 
only  on  reaching  the  Rue  de  Matignon  that  he  recov- 
ered sufficient  coolness  to  deliberate  and  reflect. 

He  had  arrived  at  the  desired  spot;  how  should  he 
set  to  work  to  obtain  the  information  that  he  required  ? 
The  evening  was  a  dark  one,  and  the  gas-lamps  showed 
&  feeble  light  through  the  dull  February  fog.  There 
were  no  signs  of  life  in  the  Rue  de  Matignon,  and  the 
silence  was  only  broken  by  the  continuous  surge  of 
carriage  wheels  in  the  Faubourg  Saint  Honore.  This 


254  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

gloom,  and  the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  added  to  the 
young  painter's  depression.  He  saw  his  utter  help- 
lessness, and  felt  that  he  could  not  move  a  step  without 
compromising  the  woman  he  so  madly  adored.  He 
walked  to  the  gate  of  the  house,  hoping  to  gain  some 
information  even  from  the  exterior  aspect  of  the 
house;  for  it  seemed  to  him  that  if  Sabine  were  dying, 
the  very  stones  in  the  street  would  utter  sounds  of 
woe  and  lamentation;  but  the  fog  had  closely  en- 
wrapped the  house,  and  he  could  hardly  see  which  of 
the  windows  were  lighted.  His  reasoning  faculties 
told  him  that  there  was  no  use  in  waiting,  but  an  inner 
voice  warned  him  to  stay.  Would  Modeste,  who  had 
written  to  him,  divine,  by  some  means  that  he  was 
there,  in  an  agony  of  suspense,  and  come  out  to  give 
him  information  and  solace?  All  at  once  a  thought 
darted  across  his  mind,  vivid  as  a  flash  of  light- 
ning. 

"  M.  de  Breulh  will  help  me/'  cried  he ;  "  for  though 
I  cannot  go  to  the  house,  he  will  have  no  difficulty  in 
doing  so." 

By  good  luck,  he  had  M.  de  Breulh's  card  in  his 
pocket,  and  hurried  off  to  his  address.  M.  de  Breulh 
had  a  fine  house  in  the  Avenue  de  1'Imperatrice,  which 
he  had  taken  more  for  the  commodiousness  of  the 
stables  than  for  his  own  convenience. 

"I  wish  to  see  M.  de  Breulh/'  said  Andre,  as  he 
stopped  breathless  at  the  door,  where  a  couple  of  foot- 
men were  chatting. 

The  men  looked  at  him  with  supreme  contempt.  "He 
is  out,"  one  of  them  at  last  condescended  to  reply. 

Andre  had  by  this  time  recovered  his  coolness,  and 
taking  out  De  Breulh's  card,  wrote  these  words  on  it 
in  pencil :  "  One  moment's  interview.  ANDRE." 


A   COUNCIL   OF  WAR  255 

"  Give  this  to  your  master  as  soon  as  he  comes  in," 
said  he. 

Then  he  descended  the  steps  slowly.  He  was  cer- 
tain that  M.  de  Breulh  was  in  the  house,  and  that  he 
would  send  out  after  the  person  who  had  left  the  c,ard 
almost  at  once.  His  conclusion  proved  right;  in  five 
minutes  he  was  overtaken  by  the  panting  lackey,  who, 
conducting  him  back  to  the  house,  showed  him  into  a 
magnificently  furnished  library.  De  Breulh  feared 
that  some  terrible  event  had  taken  place. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Sabine  is  dying ; "  and  Andre  at  once  proceeded  to 
inform  De  Breulh  of  what  had  happened  since  his  de- 
parture. 

"  But  how  can  I  help  you  ?  " 

"  You  can  go  and  make  inquiries  at  the  house/' 

"  Reflect ;  yesterday  I  wrote  to  the  Count,  and  broke 
off  a  marriage,  the  preliminaries  of  which  had  been 
completely  settled;  and  within  twenty-four  hours  to 
send  and  inquire  after  his  daughter's  health  would  be 
to  be  guilty  of  an  act  of  inexcusable  insolence;  for  it 
would  look  as  if  I  fancied  that  Mademoiselle  de  Mussi- 
dan  had  been  struck  down  by  my  rupture  of  the  en- 
gagement." 

"  You  are  right/'  murmured  Andre  dejectedly. 

"But,"  continued  De  Breulh,  after  a  moment's  re- 
flection, "  I  have  a  distant  relative,  a  lady  who  is  also 
a  connection  of  the  Mussidan  family,  the  Viscountess 
de  Bois  Arden,  and  she  will  be  glad  to  be  of  service 
to  me.  She  is  young  and  giddy,  but  as  true  as  steel. 
Come  with  me  to  her;  my  carriage  is  ready." 

The  footmen  were  surprised  at  seeing  their  master 
on  such  terms  of  intimacy  with  the  shabbily  dressed 
young  man,  but  ventured,  of  course,  on  no  remarks. 


256  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

Not  a  word  was  exchanged  during  the  brief  drive 
to  Madame  de  Bois  Arden's  house. 

"Wait  for  me,"  exclaimed  De  Breulh,  springing 
from  the  vehicle  as  soon  as  it  drew  up;  "I  will  be 
back  directly." 

Madame  de  Bois  Arden  is  justly  called  one  of  the 
handsomest  women  in  Paris.  Very  fair,  with  masses 
of  black  hair,  and  a  complexion  to  which  art  has  united 
itself  to  the  gifts  of  nature,  she  is  a  woman  who  has 
been  everywhere,  knows  everything,  talks  incessantly, 
and  generally  very  well.  She  spends  forty  thousand 
francs  per  annum  on  dress.  She  is  always  committing 
all  sorts  of  imprudent  acts,  and  scandal  is  ever  busy 
with  her  name.  Half  a  dozen  of  the  opposite  sex  have 
been  talked  of  in  connection  with  her,  while  in  reality 
she  is  a  true  and  faithful  wife,  for,  in  spite  of  all  her 
frivolity,  she  adores  her  husband,  and  is  in  great  awe 
of  him.  Such  was  the  character  of  the  lady  into  whose 
apartment  M.  de  Breulh  was  introduced.  Madame  de 
Bois  Arden  was  engaged  in  admiring  a  very  pretty 
fancy  costume  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.,  one  of  Van 
Klopen's  masterpieces,  when  M.  de  Breulh  was  an- 
nounced, which  she  was  going  to  wear,  on  her  return 
from  the  opera,  at  a  masquerade  ball  at  the  Austrian 
Ambassador's.  Madame  de  Bois  Arden  greeted  her 
visitor  with  effusion,  for  they  had  been  acquaintances 
from  childhood,  and  always  addressed  each  other  by 
their  Christian  names. 

"  What,  you  here  at  this  hour,  Gontran ! "  said  the 
lady.  "Is  it  a  vision,  or  only  a  miracle?"  But  the 
smile  died  away  upon  her  lips,  as  she  caught  a  glimpse 
of  her  visitor's  pale  and  harassed  face.  "  Is  there  any- 
thing the  matter?"  asked  she. 

"Not  yet,"  answered  he,  "but  there  may  be,  for 


A   COUNCIL   OF  WAR  257 

I  hear  that  Mademoiselle  de  Mussidan  is  dangerously 
ill." 

"Is  she  really?  Poor  Sabine!  what  is  the  matter 
with  her?" 

"  I  do  not  know ;  and  I  want  you,  Clotilde,  to  send 
one  of  your  people  to  inquire  into  the  truth  of  what  we 
have  heard." 

Madame  de  Bois  Arden  opened  her  eyes  very  wide. 

"Are  you  joking?"  said  she.  "Why  do  you  not 
send  yourself?" 

"  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  do  so ;  and  if  you  have 
any  kindness  of  heart,  you  do  as  I  ask  you ;  and  I  want 
you  also  to  promise  me  not  to  say  a  word  of  this  to 
any  one." 

Excited  as  she  was  by  this  mystery,  Madame  de  Bois 
Arden  did  not  ask  another  question. 

"  I  will  do  exactly  what  you  want,"  replied  she,  "  and 
respect  your  secret.  I  would  go  at  once,  were  it  not 
that  Bois  Arden  will  never  sit  down  to  dinner  without 
me;  but  the  moment  we  have  finished  I  will  go." 

"  Thanks,  a  thousand  times ;  and  now  I  will  go  home 
and  wait  for  news  from  you." 

"  Not  at  all, — you  will  remain  here  to  dinner." 

"  I  must, — I  have  a  friend  waiting  for  me." 

"  Do  as  you  please,  then,"  returned  the  Viscountess, 
laughing.  "I  will  send  round  a  note  this  eve- 
ning." 

De  Breulh  pressed  her  hand,  and  hurried  down,  and 
was  met  by  Andre  at  the  door,  for  he  had  been  unable 
to  sit  still  in  the  carriage. 

"Keep  up  your  courage.  Madame  de  Bois  Arden 
had  not  heard  of  Mademoiselle  Sabine's  illness,  and 
this  looks  as  if  it  was  not  a  very  serious  matter.  We 
shall  have  the  real  facts  in  three  hours." 


258  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  Three  hours ! "  groaned  Andre,  "  what  a  lapse  of 
time ! " 

"  It  is  rather  long,  I  admit ;  but  we  will  talk  of  her 
while  we  wait,  for  you  must  stay  and  dine  -with 
me." 

Andre  yielded,  for  he  had  no  longer  the  energy  to 
contest  anything.  The  dinner  was  exquisite,  but  the 
two  men  were  not  in  a  condition  of  mind  to  enjoy 
it,  and  scarcely  consumed  anything.  Vainly  did  they 
endeavor  to  speak  on  indifferent  subjects,  and  when 
the  coffee  had  been  served  in  the  library,  they  relapsed 
into  utter  silence.  As  the  clock  struck  ten,  however, 
a  knock  was  heard  at  the  door,  then  whisperings,  and 
the  rustle  of  female  attire,  and  lastly  Madame  de  Bois 
Arden  burst  upon  them  like  a  tornado. 

"  Here  am  I,"  cried  she. 

It  was  certainly  rather  a  hazardous  step  to  pay  such 
a  late  visit  to  a  bachelor's  house,  but  then  the  Vis- 
countess de  Bois  Arden  did  exactly  as  she  pleased. 

"I  have  come  here,  Gontran,"  exclaimed  she,  with 
extreme  vehemence,  "  to  tell  you  that  I  think  your  con- 
duct is  abominable  and  ungentlemanly." 

"  Clotilde ! " 

"  Hold  your  tongue !  you  are  a  wretch !  Ah !  now  I 
can  see  why  you  did  not  wish  to  write  and  inquire 
about  poor  Sabine.  You  well  knew  the  effect  that 
your  message  would  have  on  her/' 

M.  de  Breulh  smiled  as  he  turned  to  Andre  and 
said, — 

"  You  see  that  I  was  right  in  what  I  told  you." 

This  remark  for  the  first  time  attracted  Madame  de 
Bois  Arden's  attention  to  the  fact  that  a  stranger  was 
present,  and  she  trembled  lest  she  had  committed  some 
grave  indiscretion. 


A   COUNCIL   OF  WAR  259 

"  Gracious  heavens ! "  exclaimed  she,  with  a  start, 
"  why,  I  thought  that  we  were  alone ! " 

"  This  gentleman  has  all  my  confidence/'  replied  M. 
de  Breulh  seriously;  and  as  he  spoke  he  laid  his  hand 
upon  Andre's  shoulder.  "  Permit  me  to  introduce  M. 
Andre  to  you,  my  dear  Clotilde ;  he  may  not  be  known 
to-day,  but  in  a  short  time  his  reputation  will  be 
European." 

Andre  bowed,  but  for  once  in  her  life  the  Viscountess 
felt  embarrassed,  for  she  was  surprised  at  the  ex- 
tremely shabby  attire  of  this  confidential  friend,  and 
then  there  seemed  something  wanting  to  the  name. 

"Then,"  resumed  De  Breulh,  "Mademoiselle  de 
Mussidan  is  really  ill,  and  our  information  is  correct." 

"  She  is." 

"Did  you  see  her?" 

"  I  did,  Gontran ;  and  had  you  seen  her,  your  heart 
would  have  been  filled  with  pity,  and  you  would  have 
repented  your  conduct  toward  her.  The  poor  girl  did 
not  even  know  me.  She  lay  in  her  bed,  whiter  than  the 
very  sheets,  cold  and  inanimate  as  a  figure  of  marble. 
Her  large  black  eyes  were  staring  wildly,  and  the  only 
sign  of  life  she  exhibited  was  when  the  great  tears 
coursed  down  her  cheeks." 

Andre  had  determined  to  restrain  every  token  of 
emotion  in  the  presence  of  the  Viscountess,  but  her  re- 
cital was  too  much  for  him. 

"  Ah !  "  said  he,  "  she  will  die;  I  know  it." 

There  was  such  intense  anguish  in  his  tone  that  even 
the  practised  woman  of  the  world  was  softened. 

"  I  assure  you,  sir,"  said  she,  "  that  you  go  too  far ; 
there  is  no  present  danger;  the  doctors  say  it  is  cata- 
lepsy, which  often  attacks  persons  of  a  nervous  tem- 
perament upon  the  receipt  of  a  sudden  mental  shock." 


260  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"But  what  shock  has  she  received?"  asked 
Andre. 

"  No  one  told  me,"  answered  she  after  a  short  pause, 
"  that  Sabine's  illness  was  caused  by  the  breaking  off 
of  her  engagement;  but,  of  course,  I  supposed  that  it 
was." 

"That  was  not  the  reason,  Clotilde;  but  you  have 
told  us  nothing;  pray,  go  on,"  interposed  De  Breulh. 

The  extreme  calmness  of  her  cousin,  and  a  glance 
which  she  observed  passing  between  him  and  Andre, 
enlightened  the  Viscountess  somewhat. 

"  I  asked  as  much  as  I  dared,"  she  replied,  "  but  I 
could  only  get  the  vaguest  answers.  Sabine  looked  as 
if  she  were  dead,  and  her  father  and  mother  hovered 
around  her  couch  like  two  spectres.  Had  they  slain 
her  with  their  own  hands,  they  could  not  have  looked 
more  guilty;  their  faces  frightened  me." 

"  Tell  me  precisely  what  answers  were  given  to  your 
questions,"  broke  in  he  impatiently. 

"Sabine  had  seemed  so  agitated  all  day,  that  her 
mother  asked  her  if  she  was  suffering  any  pain." 

"We  know  that  already." 

"Indeed!"  replied  the  Viscountess,  with  a  look  of 
surprise.  "  It  seems,  cousin,  that  you  saw  Sabine  that 
afternoon,  but  what  became  of  her  afterward  no  one 
appears  to  know;  but  there  is  positive  proof  that  she 
did  not  leave  the  house,  and  received  no  letters.  At 
all  events,  it  was  more  than  an  hour  after  her  maid 
saw  her  enter  her  own  room.  Sabine  said  a  few  un- 
intelligible words  to  the  girl,  who,  seeing  the  pallor 
upon  her  mistress's  face,  ran  up  to  her.  Just  as  she 
did  so,  Sabine  uttered  a  wild  shriek,  and  fell  to  the 
ground.  She  was  raised  up  and  laid  upon  the  bed,, 
but  since  then  she  has  neither  moved  nor  spoken." 


A    COUNCIL   OF   WAR  261 

"  That  is  not  all,"  said  De  Breulh,  who  had  watched 
his  cousin  keenly. 

The  Viscountess  started,  and  avoided  meeting  her 
cousin's  eye. 

"  I  do  not  understand,"  she  faltered.  "  Why  do  you 
look  at  me  like  that?" 

De  Breulh,  who  had  been  pacing  up  and  down  the 
room,  suddenly  halted  in  front  of  the  Viscountess. 

"  My  dear  Clotilde,"  said  he,  "  I  am  sure  when  I  tell 
you  that  the  tongue  of  scandal  has  often  been  busy 
with  your  name,  I  am  telling  you  nothing  new." 

"Pooh!"  answered  the  Viscountess.  "What  do  I 
care  for  that  ?  " 

"  But  I  always  defended  you.  You  are  indiscreet — 
your  presence  here  to-night  shows  this;  but  you  are, 
after  all,  a  true  woman, — brave  and  true  as  steel." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  this  exordium,  Gontran  ?  " 

"  This,  Clotilde, — I  want  to  know  if  I  dare  venture 
to  intrust  to  you  a  secret  which  involves  the  honor  of 
two  persons,  and,  perhaps,  the  lives  of  more." 

"  Thank  you,  Gontran,"  answered  she  calmly.  "  You 
have  formed  a  correct  judgment  of  me." 

But  here  Andre  felt  that  he  must  interpose,  and,  tak- 
ing a  step  forward,  said,  "  Have  you  the  right  to 
speak?" 

"  My  dear  Andre,"  said  De  Breulh,  u  this  is  a  mat- 
ter in  which  my  honor  is  as  much  concerned  as  yours. 
Will  you  not  trust  me?"  Then  turning  to  the  Vis- 
countess, he  added,  "  Tell  us  all  you  heard." 

"  It  is  only  something  I  heard  from  Modeste.  You 
had  hardly  left  the  house,  when  the  Baron  de  Clinchain 
made  his  appearance." 

"  An  eccentric  old  fellow,  a  friend  of  the  Count  de 
Mussidan's.  I  know  him." 


262  CAUGHT   IN    THE   NET 

"  Just  so ;  well,  they  had  a  stormy  interview,  and  at 
the  end  of  it,  the  Baron  was  taken  ill,  and  it  was  with 
difficulty  that  he  regained  his  carriage/' 

"  That  seems  curious." 

"  Wait  a  bit.  After  that  Octave  and  his  wife  had  a 
terrible  scene  together,  and  Modeste  thinks  that  her 
mistress  must  have  heard  something,  for  the  Count's 
voice  rang  through  the  house  like  thunder." 

Every  word  that  the  Viscountess  uttered  strength- 
ened De  Breulh's  suspicions.  "There  is  something 
mysterious  in  all  this,  Clotilde,"  said  he,  "as  you  will 
say  when  you  know  the  whole  truth,"  and,  without 
omitting  a  single  detail,  he  related  the  whole  of  Sabine 
and  Andre's  love  story. 

Madame  de  Bois  Arden  listened  attentively,  some- 
times thrilled  with  horror,  and  at  others  pleased  with 
this  tale  of  innocent  love. 

"  Forgive  me,"  said  she,  when  her  cousin  had  con- 
cluded; "my  reproaches  and  accusations  were  equally 
unfounded." 

"Yes,  yes;  never  mind  that;  but  I  am  afraid  that 
there  is  some  hidden  mystery  which  will  place  a  fresh 
stumbling-block  in  our  friend  Andre's  path." 

"  Do  not  say  that,"  cried  Andre,  in  terror.  "  What 
is  it?" 

"That  I  cannot  tell;  for  Mademoiselle  de  Mussi- 
dan's  sake,  I  have  withdrawn  all  my  pretensions  to  her 
hand, — not  to  leave  the  field  open  to  any  other  in- 
truder, but  in  order  that  she  may  be  your  wife." 

"  How  are  we  to  learn  what  has  really  happened  ?  " 
asked  the  Viscountess. 

"  In  some  way  or  other  we  shall  find  out,  if  you  will 
be  our  ally." 

Most  women  are  pleased  to  busy  themselves  about  a 


A   COUNCIL   OF   WAR  263 

marriage,  and  the  Viscountess  was  cheered  to  find  her- 
self mixed  up  in  so  romantic  a  drama. 

"  I  am  entirely  at  your  beck  and  call/'  answered  she. 
"  Have  you  any  plan  ?  " 

"  Not  yet,  but  I  will  soon.  As  far  as  Mademoiselle 
de  Mussidan  is  concerned,  we  must  act  quite  openly. 
Andre  will  write  to  her,  asking  for  an  explanation,  and 
you  shall  see  her  to-morrow,  and  if  she  is  well  enough, 
give  her  his  note." 

The  proposal  was  a  startling  one,  and  the  Vis- 
countess did  not  entertain  it  favorably. 

"  No/'  said  she,  "  I  think  that  would  not  do  at  all." 

"Why  not?    However,  let  us  leave  it  to  Andre." 

Andre,  thus  addressed,  stepped  forward,  and  said, — 

"I  do  not  think  that  it  would  be  delicate  to  let 
Mademoiselle  de  Mussidan  know  that  her  secret  is 
known  to  any  one  else  than  ourselves." 

The  Viscountess  nodded  assent. 

"If,"  continued  Andre,  "the  Viscountess  will  be 
good  enough  to  ask  Modeste  to  meet  me  at  the  corner 
of  the  Avenue  de  Matignon;  I  shall  be  there." 

"A  capital  idea,  sir,"  said  the  lady,  "and  I  will 
give  your  message  to  Modeste."  She  broke  off  her 
speech  suddenly,  and  uttered  a  pretty  little  shriek,  as 
she  noticed  that  the  hands  of  the  clock  on  the  mantel- 
piece pointed  to  twenty  to  twelve.  "  Great  heavens !  " 
cried  she,  "  and  I  am  going  to  a  ball  at  the  Austrian 
Embassy,  and  now  not  even  dressed."  And,  with  a 
coquettish  gesture,  she  drew  her  shawl  around  her,  and 
ran  out  of  the  room,  exclaiming  as  she  descended  the 
stairs,  "  I  will  call  here  to-morrow,  Gontran,  on  my  way 
to  the  Bois,"  and  disappeared  like  lightning. 

Andre  and  his  host  sat  over  the  fire,  and  conversed 
for  a  long  time.  It  seemed  strange  that  twy  men  who 


264  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

had  met  that  morning  for  the  first  time  should  now  be 
on  such  intimate  terms  of  friendship;  but  such  was 
the  case,  for  a  mutual  feeling  of  admiration  and  respect 
had  sprung  up  in  their  hearts. 

M.  de  Breulh  wished  to  send  Andre  home  in  his 
carriage,  but  this  the  young  man  declined,  and  merely 
borrowed  an  overcoat  to  protect  him  from  the  in- 
clemency of  the  weather. 

"To-morrow,"  said  he,  as  he  made  his  way  home, 
"Modeste  shall  tell  all  she  knows,  provided  always 
that  that  charming  society  dame  does  not  forget  all 
about  our  existence  before  then." 

Madame  de  Bois  Arden,  however,  could  sometimes 
be  really  in  earnest.  Upon  her  return  from  the  ball  she 
would  not  even  go  to  bed,  lest  she  should  oversleep  her- 
self, and  the  next  day  Andre  found  Modeste  waiting 
at  the  appointed  spot,  and  learnt,  to  his  great  grief, 
that  Sabine  had  not  yet  regained  consciousness. 

The  family  doctor  betrayed  no  uneasiness,  but  ex- 
pressed a  wish  for  a  consultation  with  another  medical 
man.  Meanwhile,  the  girl  promised  to  meet  Andre 
morning  and  evening  in  the  same  place,  and  give  him 
such  scraps  of  information  as  she  had  been  able  to 
pick  up.  For  two  whole  days  Mademoiselle  de  Mussi- 
dan's  condition  remained  unchanged,  and  Andre  spent 
his  whole  time  between  his  own  studio,  the  Avenue  de 
Matignon,  and  M.  de  Breulh's^  where  he  frequently 
met  Madame  de  Bois  Arden. 

But  on  the  third  day  Modeste  informed  him,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes,  that  though  the  cataleptic  fit  had 
passed  away,  Sabine  was  struggling  with  a  severe  at- 
tack of  fever.  Modeste  and  Andre  were  so  interested 
in  their  conversation,  that  they  did  not  perceive  Flor- 
estan,  who  had  gone  out  to  post  a  letter  to  Mascarin. 


A  COUNCIL  OF  WAR  265 

"  Listen,  Modeste,"  whispered  Andre,  "  you  tell  me 
that  she  is  in  danger, — very  great  danger." 

"  The  doctor  said  that  the  crisis  would  take  place  to* 
day;  be  here  at  five  this  evening." 

Andre  staggered  like  a  madman  to  De  Breulh's 
house;  and  so  excited  was  he  that  his  friend  insisted 
upon  his  taking  some  repose,  and  would  not,  when  five 
o'clock  arrived,  permit  Andre  to  go  to  the  appointment 
alone.  As  they  turned  the  corner,  they  saw  Modeste 
hurrying  toward  them. 

"  She  is  saved,  she  is  saved ! "  said  she,  "  for  she  has 
fallen  into  a  tranquil  sleep,  and  the  doctor  says  that  she 
will  recover." 

Andre  and  De  Breulh  were  transported  by  this  news ; 
but  they  did  not  know  that  they  were  watched  by  two 
men,  Mascarin  and  Florestan,  who  did  not  let  one  of 
their  movements  escape  them.  Warned  by  a  brief  note 
from  Florestan,  Mascarin  had  driven  swiftly  to  Father 
Canon's  public-house,  where  he  thought  he  was  certain 
to  find  the  domestic,  but  the  man  was  not  there,  and 
Mascarin,  unable  to  endure  further  suspense,  sent  for 
him  to  the  Hotel  de  Mussidan.  When  the  servant  in- 
formed Mascarin  that  the  crisis  was  safely  passed,  he 
drew  a  deep  breath  of  relief;  for  he  no  longer  feared 
that  the  frail  structure  that  he  had  built  up  with  such 
patient  care  for  twenty  long  years  would  be  shattered 
at  a  blow  by  the  chill  hand  of  death.  He  bent  his 
brow,  however,  when  he  heard  of  Modeste's  daily  in- 
terviews with  the  young  man  whom  Florestan  termed 
"  Mademoiselle's  lover." 

"  Ah,"  muttered  he,  "  if  I  could  only  be  present  at 
one  of  those  interviews ! " 

"  And,  as  you  say,"  returned  Florestan,  drawing  out, 
as  he  spoke,  a  neat-looking  watch,  "  it  is  just  the  hour 


266  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

of  their  meeting;  and  as  the  place  is  always  the  same, 
you " 

"  Come,  then/'  broke  in  his  patron.  They  went  out 
accordingly,  and  reached  the  Champs  Elysees  by  a  cir- 
cuitous route.  The  place  was  admirably  suited  to  their 
purpose,  for  close  by  were  several  of  those  little  wooden 
huts,  occupied  in  summer  by  the  vendors  of  cakes  and 
playthings. 

"Let  us  get  behind  one  of  these,"  said  Florestan. 
Night  was  drawing  in,  but  objects  could  still  be  dis- 
tinguished, and  in  about  five  minutes  Florestan  whis- 
pered, "  Look,  there  comes  Modeste,  and  there  is  the 
lover,  but  he  has  a  pal  with  him  to-night.  Why, 
what  can  she  be  telling  him?  He  seems  quite  over- 
come." 

Mascarin  divined  the  truth  at  once,  and  found  that 
it  would  be  a  difficult  task  to  interfere  with  the  love 
of  a  man  who  displayed  such  intensity  of  feeling. 

"  Then,"  remarked  Mascarin,  savagely,  "  that  great 
booby,  staggering  about  on  his  friend's  arm,  is  your 
young  lady's  lover  ?  " 

"Just  so,  sir." 

"  Then  we  must  find  out  who  he  is." 

Florestan  put  on  a  crafty  air,  and  replied  in  gentle 
accents. 

"  The  day  before  yesterday,  as  I  was  smoking  my 
pipe  outside,  I  saw  this  young  bantam  swaggering  down 
the  street — not  but  what  he  seemed  rather  crestfallen; 
but  I  knew  the  reason  for  that,  and  should  look  just 
as  much  in  the  dumps  if  my  young  woman  was  laid  up. 
I  thought,  as  I  had  nothing  to  do,  I  might  as  well  see 
who  he  was  and  where  he  lived ;  so,  sticking  my  hands 
in  my  pockets,  after  him  I  sloped.  He  walked  such  a 
Jong  way,  that  I  got  precious  sick  of  my  job,  but  at 


A   COUNCIL   OF  WAR  267 

last  I  ran  him  to  earth  in  a  house.  I  went  straight 
up  to  the  lodge,  and  showed  the  portress  my  tobacco 
pouch,  and  said,  'I  picked  up  this;  I  think  that  the 
gentleman  who  has  just  gone  in  dropped  it.  Do  you 
know  him ? '  'Of  course  I  do/  said  she.  ' He  is  a 
painter;  lives  on  the  fourth  floor;  and  his  name  is  M. 
Andre/  " 

"Was  the  house  in  the  Rue  de  la  Tour  d'Au- 
vergne  ?  "  broke  in  Mascarin. 

"  You  are  right,  sir,"  returned  the  man,  taken  a  little 
aback.  "  It  seems,  sir,  that  you  are  better  informed 
than  I  am." 

Mascarin  did  not  notice  the  man's  surprise,  but  he 
was  struck  with  the  strange  persistency  with  which 
this  young  man  seemed  to  cross  his  plans,  for  he  found 
that  the  acquaintance  of  Rose  and  the  lover  of  Mad- 
emoiselle de  Mussidan  were  one  and  the  same  person, 
and  he  had  a  presentiment  that  he  would  in  some  way 
prove  a  hindrance  to  his  plans. 

The  astute  Mascarin  concentrated  all  his  attention 
upon  Andre. 

The  latter  said  something  to  Modeste,  which  caused 
that  young  woman  to  raise  her  hands  to  heaven,  as 
though  in  alarm. 

"But  who  is  the  other?"  asked  he,— "the  fellow 
that  looks  like  an  Englishman?  " 

"  Do  you  not  know  ?  "  returned  the  lackey.  "  Why, 
that  is  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay." 

"  What,  the  man  who  was  to  marry  Sabine  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

Mascarin  was  not  easily  disconcerted,  but  this  time 
a  blasphemous  oath  burst  from  his  lips. 

"  Do  you  mean,"  said  he,  "  that  De  Breulh  and  this 
painter  are  friends  ?  " 


268  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"That  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  You  seem  to  want 
to  know  a  lot,"  answered  Florestan,  sulkily. 

Modeste  had  now  left  the  young  men,  who  walked 
arm  in  arm  in  the  direction  of  the  Avenue  de  1'Impera- 
trice. 

"M.  de  Breulh  takes  his  dismissal  easily  enough," 
observed  Mascarin. 

"  He  was  not  dismissed ;  it  was  he  that  wrote  and 
broke  off  the  engagement." 

This  time  Mascarin  contrived  to  conceal  the  terrible 
blow  that  this  information  caused  to  him,  and  even 
made  some  jesting  remark  as  he  took  leave  of  Flor- 
estan; but  he  was  in  truth  completely  staggered,  for 
after  thoroughly  believing  that  the  game  was  won,  he 
saw  that,  though  perhaps  not  lost,  his  victory  was  post- 
poned for  an  indefinite  period. 

"  What ! "  said  he,  as  he  clenched  his  hand  firmly, 
"  shall  the  headstrong  passion  of  this  foolish  boy  mar 
my  plans?  Let  him  take  care  of  himself;  for  if  he 
walks  in  my  path,  he  will  find  it  a  road  that  leads  to  his 
own  destruction." 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

AN  ACADEMY  OF  MUSIC. 

DR.  HORTEBISE  had  for  some  time  back  given  up  argu- 
ing with  Mascarin  as  to  the  advice  the  latter  gave  him. 
He  had  been  ordered  not  to  let  Paul  out  of  his  sight, 
and  he  obeyed  this  command  literally.  He  had  taken 
him  to  dine  at  M.  Martin  Rigal's,  though  the  host 
himself  was  absent;  from  there  he  took  Paul  to  his 


AN   ACADEMY   OF   MUSIC  269 

club,  and  finally  wound  up  by  forcing  the  young  man 
to  accept  a  bed  at  his  house.  They  both  slept  late,  and 
were  sitting  down  to  a  luxurious  breakfast,  when  the 
servant  announced  M.  Tantaine,  and  that  worthy  man 
made  his  appearance  with  the  same  smile  upon  his  face 
which  Paul  remembered  so  well  in  the  Hotel  de  Perou. 
The  sight  of  him  threw  the  young  man  into  a  state  of 
fury.  "  At  last  we  meet,"  cried  he.  "  I  have  an  ac- 
count to  settle  with  you." 

"  You  have  an  account  to  settle  with  me  ? "  asked 
Daddy  Tantaine  with  a  puzzled  smile. 

"  Yes ;  was  it  not  through  you  that  I  was  accused  of 
theft  by  that  old  hag,  Madame  Loupins  ?  " 

Tantaine  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Dear  me/'  said  he;  "I  thought  that  M.  Mas- 
carin  had  explained  everything,  and  that  you  were 
anxious  to  marry  Mademoiselle  Flavia,  and  that,  above 
all,  you  were  a  young  man  of  intelligence  and 
tact." 

Hortebise  roared  with  laughter,  and  Paul,  seeing  his 
folly,  blushed  deeply  and  remained  silent. 

"I  regret  having  disturbed  you,  doctor,"  resumed 
Tantaine,  "  but  I  had  strict  orders  to  see  you." 

"  Is  there  anything  new  then  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  Mademoiselle  de  Mussidan  is  out  of  danger, 
and  M.  de  Croisenois  can  commence  proceedings  at 
once." 

The  doctor  drank  off  a  glass  of  wine.  "To  the 
speedy  marriage  of  our  dear  friend  the  Marquis  and 
Mademoiselle  Sabine/'  said  he  gayly. 

"  So  be  it,"  said  Tantaine ;  "  I  am  also  directed  to 
beg  M.  Paul  not  to  leave  this  house,  but  to  send  for 
his  luggage  and  remain  here." 

Hortebise  looked  so  much  annoyed  that  Tantaine 


270  CAUGHT   IN  THE   NET 

hastened  to  add :  "  Only  as  a  temporary  measurc2  for  I 
am  on  the  lookout  for  rooms  for  him  now." 

Paul  looked  delighted  at  the  idea  of  having  a  home 
of  his  own. 

"  Good !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor  merrily.  "  And  now, 
my  dear  Tantaine,  as  you  have  executed  all  your  com- 
missions, you  can  stay  and  breakfast  with  us." 

"  Thanks  for  the  honor ;  but  I  am  very  busy  with 
affairs  of  the  Duke  de  Champdoce  and  must  see  Per- 
pignan  at  once."  As  he  spoke  he  rose,  making  a  little 
sign  which  Paul  did  not  catch,  and  Hortebise  accom- 
panied him  to  the  door  of  the  vestibule.  "  Don't  leave 
that  lad  alone,"  said  Tantaine ;  "  I  will  see  about  him 
to-morrow;  meanwhile  prepare  him  a  little." 

"1  comprehend,"  answered  Hortebise;  "my  kind 
regards  to  that  dear  fellow,  Perpignan." 

This  Perpignan  was  well  known — some  people  said 
too  well  known — in  Paris.  His  real  name  was  Isidore 
Crocheteau,  and  he  had  started  life  as  a  cook  in  a 
Palais  Royal  restaurant.  Unfortunately  a  breach  of 
the  Eighth  Commandment  had  caused  him  to  suffer  in- 
carceration for  a  period  of  three  years,  and  on  his  re- 
lease he  bloomed  out  into  a  private  inquiry  agent.  His 
chief  customers  were  jealous  husbands,  but  as  surely 
as  one  of  these  placed  an  affair  in  his  hands,  he  would 
go  to  the  erring  wife  and  obtain  a  handsome  price  from 
her  for  his  silence. 

Mascarin  and  Perpignan  had  met  in  an  affair  of  this 
kind ;  and  as  they  mutually  feared  each  other,  they  had 
tacitly  agreed  not  to  cross  each  other's  path  in  that 
great  wilderness  of  crime — Paris.  But  while  Perpignan 
knew  nothing  of  Mascarin's  schemes  and  operations, 
the  former  was  very  well  acquainted  with  the  ex-cook's 
doings.  He  knew,  for  instance,  that  the  income  from 


AN   ACADEMY   OF   MUSIC  271 

the  Inquiry  Office  would  not  cover  Perpignan's  ex- 
penses, who  dressed  extravagantly,  kept  a  carriage,  af- 
fected artistic  tastes,  played  cards,  betted  on  races,  and 
liked  good  dinners  at  the  most  expensive  restaurants. 
"  Where  can  he  get  his  money  from  ?  "  asked  Mascarin 
of  himself;  and,  after  a  long  search,  he  succeeded  in 
solving  the  riddle. 

Daddy  Tantaine,  after  leaving  the  doctor's,  soon  ar- 
rived at  the  residence  of  M.  Perpignan,  and  rang  the 
bell. 

A  fat  woman  answered  the  door.  "  M.  Perpignan  is 
out,"  said  she. 

"When  will  he  be  back?  " 

"  Some  time  this  evening." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  I  can  find  him,  as  it  is  of  the 
utmost  importance  to  both  of  us  that  I  should  see  him 
at  once  ?  " 

"  He  did  not  say  where  he  was  going  to  ?  " 

"Perhaps  he  is  at  the  factory/'  said  Tantaine 
blandly. 

The  fat  woman  was  utterly  taken  aback  by  this  sug- 
gestion. "What  do  you  know  about  that?"  faltered 
she. 

"  You  see  I  do  know,  and  that  is  sufficient  for  you. 
Come,  is  he  there?" 

"  I  think  so." 

"Thank  you,  I  will  call  on  him  then.  An  awfully 
long  journey,"  muttered  Tantaine,  as  he  turned  away; 
"  but,  perhaps,  if  I  catch  the  worthy  man  in  the  midst 
of  all  his  little  business  affairs,  he  will  be  more  free  in 
his  language,  and  not  so  guarded  in  his  actual  admis- 
sions/' 

The  old  man  went  to  his  task  with  a  will.  He  passed 
down  the  Rue  Toumenon,  skirted  the  Luxemburg,  and 


272  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

made  his  way  into  the  Rue  Guy  Lussac;  from  thence 
he  walked  down  the  Rue  Mouffetard,  and  thence  direct 
into  one  of  those  crooked  lanes  which  run  between  the 
Gobelins  Factory  and  the  Hopital  de  TOursine.  This 
is  a  portion  of  the  city  utterly  unknown  to  the  greater 
number  of  the  Parisians.  The  streets  are  narrow  and 
hardly  afford  room  for  vehicles.  A  valley  forms  the 
centre  of  the  place,  down  which  runs  a  muddy,  sluggish 
stream,  the  banks  of  which  are  densely  crowded  with 
tanyards  and  iron  works.  On  the  one  side  of  this 
valley  is  the  busy  Rue  Mouffetard,  and  on  the  other 
one  of  the  outer  boulevard,  while  a  long  line  of  sickly- 
looking  poplars  mark  the  course  of  the  semi-stagnant 
stream.  Tantaine  seemed  to  know  the  quarter  well, 
and  went  on  until  he  reached  the  Champs  des  Alouettes. 
Then,  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction,  he  halted  before  a 
large,  three-storied  house,  standing  on  a  piece  of 
ground  surrounded  by  a  mouldering  wooden  fence.  The 
aspect  of  the  house  had  something  sinister  and  gloomy 
about  it,  and  for  a  moment  Tantaine  paused  as  if  he 
could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  enter  it;  but  at  last  he 
did  so.  The  interior  was  as  dingy  and  dilapidated  as 
the  outside.  There  were  two  rooms  on  the  ground 
floor,  one  of  which  was  strewn  with  straw,  with  a  few 
filthy-looking  quilts  and  blankets  spread  over  it.  The 
next  room  was  fitted  up  as  a  kitchen ;  in  the  centre  was 
a  long  table  composed  of  boards  placed  on  trestles,  and 
a  dirty-looking  woman  with  her  head  enveloped  in  a 
coarse  red  handkerchief,  and  grasping  a  big  wooden 
spoon,  was  stirring  the  contents  of  a  large  pot  in  which 
some  terrible-looking  ingredients  were  cooking.  On  a 
small  bed  in  a  corner  lay  a  little  boy.  Every  now  and 
then  a  shiver  convulsed  his  frame,  his  face  was  deadly 
pale,  and  his  hands  almost  transparent,  while  his  great 


AN   ACADEMY   OF   MUSIC  273 

black  eyes  glittered  with  the  wild  delirium  of  fever. 
Sometimes  he  would  give  a  deep  groan,  and  then  the 
old  beldame  would  turn  angrily  and  threaten  to  strike 
him  with  her  wooden  spoon. 

"  But  I  am  so  ill,"  pleaded  the  boy. 

"  If  you  had  brought  home  what  you  were  told,  you 
would  not  have  been  beaten,  and  then  you  would  have 
had  no  fever,"  returned  the  woman  harshly. 

"  Ah,  me  1  I  am  sick  and  cold,  and  want  to  go  away," 
wailed  the  child ;  "  I  want  to  see  mammy." 

Even  Tantaine  felt  uneasy  at  this  scene,  and  gave  a 
gentle  cough  to  announce  his  presence.  The  old  woman 
turned  round  on  him  with  an  angry  snarl.  "  Who  do 
you  want  here?"  growled  she. 

"  Your  master." 

"  He  has  not  yet  arrived,  and  may  not  come  at  all, 
for  it  is  not  his  day;  but  you  can  see  Poluche." 

"And  who  may  he  be?" 

"  He  is  the  professor,"  answered  the  hag  contemptu- 
ously. 

"And  where  is  he?" 

"  In  the  music-room." 

Tantaine  went  to  the  stairs,  which  were  so  dingy  and 
dilapidated  as  to  make  an  ascent  a  work  of  danger  and 
difficulty.  As  he  ascended  higher,  he  became  aware 
of  a  strange  sound,  something  between  the  grinding  of 
scissors  and  the  snarling  of  cats.  Then  a  moment's 
silence,  a  loud  execration,  and  a  cry  of  pain.  Tan- 
taine passed  on,  and  coming  to  a  rickety  door,  he 
opened  it,  and  in  another  moment  found  himself  in 
what  the  old  hag  downstairs  had  called  the  music-room. 
The  partitions  of  all  the  rooms  on  the  floor  had  been 
roughly  torn  down  to  form  this  apartment;  hardly  a 
pane  of  glass  remained  intact  in  the  windows;  the 


274  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

dingy,  whitewashed  walls  were  covered  with  scrawls 
and  drawings  in  charcoal.  A  suffocating,  nauseous 
odor  rose  up,  absolutely  overpowering  the  smell  from 
the  neighboring  tanyards.  There  was  no  furniture  ex- 
cept a  broken  chair,  upon  which  lay  a  dog  whip  with 
plaited  leather  lash.  Round  the  room,  against  the  wall, 
stood  some  twenty  children,  dirty,  and  in  tattered 
clothes.  Some  had  violins  in  their  hands,  and  others 
stood  behind  harps  as  tall  as  themselves.  Upon  the 
violins  Tantaine  noticed  there  were  chalk  marks  at 
various  distances.  In  the  middle  of  the  room  was  a 
man,  tall  and  erect  as  a  dart,  with  flat,  ugly  features 
and  lank,  greasy  hair  hanging  down  on  his  shoulders. 
He,  too,  had  a  violin,  and  was  evidently  giving  the 
children  a  lesson.  Tantaine  at  once  guessed  that  this 
was  Professor  Poluche. 

"  Listen,"  said  he ;  "  here,  you  Ascanie,  play  the 
chorus  from  the  Chateau  de  Marguerite"  As  he  spoke 
he  drew  his  bow  across  his  instrument,  while  the  little 
Savoyard  did  his  best  to  imitate  him,  and  in  a  squeak- 
ing voice,  in  nasal  tone,  he  sang : 

"Ah!  great  heavens,  how  fine  and  grand 
Is  the  palace! " 

"  You  young  rascal !  "  cried  Poluche.  "  Have  I  not 
bid  you  fifty  times  that  at  the  word  'palace*  you  are 
to  place  your  bow  on  the  fourth  chalkmark  and  draw 
it  across?  Begin  again." 

Once  again  the  boy  commenced,  but  Poluche  stopped 
him. 

"  I  believe,  you  young  villain,  that  you  are  doing  it 
on  purpose.  Now,  go  through  the  whole  chorus  again ; 
and  if  you  do  not  do  it  right,  look  out  for  squalls." 


AN   ACADEMY   OF   MUSIC  275 

Poor  Ascanie  was  so  muddled  that  he  forgot  all  his 
instructions.  Without  any  appearance  of  anger,  the 
professor  took  up  the  whip  and  administered  half  a 
dozen  severe  cuts  across  the  bare  legs  of  the  child, 
whose  shouts  soon  filled  the  room. 

"  When  you  have  done  howling,"  remarked  Poluche, 
"you  can  try  again;  and  if  you  do  not  succeed,  no 
supper  for  you  to-night,  my  lad.  Now,  Giuseppe,  it  is 
your  turn." 

Giuseppe,  though  younger  than  Ascanie,  was  a 
greater  proficient  on  the  instrument,  and  went  through 
his  task  without  a  single  mistake. 

"  Good !  "  said  Poluche ;  "  if  you  get  on  like  that, 
you  will  soon  be  fit  to  go  out.  You  would  like  that, 
I  suppose?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  delighted  boy,  "  and  I  should  like 
to  bring  in  a  few  coppers  too." 

But  the  Professor  did  not  waste  too  much  time  in  idle 
converse. 

"  It  is  your  turn,  now  Fabio,"  said  he. 

Fabio,  a  little  mite  of  seven,  with  eyes  black  and 
sparkling  as  those  of  a  dormouse,  had  just  seen  Tan- 
taine  in  the  doorway  and  pointed  him  out  to  the  pro- 
fessor. 

Poluche  turned  quickly  round  and  found  himself  face 
to  face  with  Tantaine,  who  had  come  quickly  forward, 
his  hat  in  his  hand. 

Had  the  professor  seen  an  apparition,  he  could  not 
have  started  more  violently,  for  he  did  not  like 
strangers. 

"What  do  you  want?"  asked  he. 

"  Reassure  yourself,  sir,"  said  Tantaine,  after  hav- 
ing for  a  few  seconds  enjoyed  his  evident  terror ;  "  I 
am  the  intimate  friend  of  the  gentleman  who  employs 


276  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

you,  and  have  come  here  to  discuss  an  important  mat- 
ter of  business  with  him." 

Poluche  breathed  more  freely. 

"  Take  a  chair,  sir,"  said  he,  offering  the  only  one 
in  the  room.  "  My  master  will  soon  be  here." 

But  Daddy  Tantaine  refused  the  offer,  saying  that 
he  did  not  wish  to  intrude,  but  would  wait  until  the 
lesson  was  over. 

"  I  have  nearly  finished,"  remarked  Poluche ;  "  it  is 
almost  time  to  let  these  scamps  have  their  soup." 

Then  turning  to  his  pupils,  who  had  not  dared  to 
stir  a  limb,  he  said, — 

"  There,  that  is  enough  for  to-day ;  you  can  go." 

The  children  did  not  hesitate  for  a  moment,  but  tum- 
bled over  each  other  in  their  eagerness  to  get  away, 
hoping,  perhaps,  that  he  might  omit  to  execute  certain 
threats  that  he  had  held  out  during  the  lesson.  The 
hope  was  a  vain  one,  for  the  equitable  Poluche  went  to 
the  head  of  the  stairs  and  called  out  in  a  loud  voice, — 

"  Mother  Butor,  you  will  give  no  sotfp  to  Monte  and 
put  Ravillet  on  half  allowance." 

Tantaine  was  much  interested,  for  the  scene  was  an 
entirely  new  one. 

The  professor  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven. 

"Would,"  said  he,  "that  I  might  teach  them  the 
divine  science  as  I  would  wish;  but  the  master  would 
not  allow  me;  indeed,  he  would  dismiss  me  if  I  at- 
tempted to  do  so." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"  Let  me  explain  to  you.  You  know  that  there  are 
certain  old  women  who,  for  a  consideration,  will  train 
a  linnet  or  a  bullfinch  to  whistle  any  air  ?  " 

Tantaine,  with  all  humility,  confessed  his  ignorance 
of  these  matters. 


AN   ACADEMY   OF   MUSIC  277 

"Well,"  said  the  professor,  the  only  difference  be- 
tween those  old  women  and  myself  is,  that  they  teach 
birds  and  I  boys ;  and  I  know  which  I  had  rather  do." 

Tantaine  pointed  to  the  whip. 

"And  how  about  this?"  asked  he. 

Poluche  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Put  yourself  in  my  place  for  a  little  while,"  re- 
marked he.  "  You  see  my  master  brings  me  all  sorts 
of  boys,  and  I  have  to  cram  music  into  them  in  the 
briefest  period  possible.  Of  course  the  child  revolts, 
and  I  thrash  him;  but  do  not  think  he  cares  for  this; 
the  young  imps  thrive  on  blows.  The  only  way  that 
I  can  touch  them  is  through  their  stomachs.  I  stop  a 
quarter,  a  half,  and  sometimes  the  whole  of  their  din- 
ner. That  fetches  them,  and  you  have  no  idea  how  a 
little  starvation  brings  them  on  in  music." 

Daddy  Tantaine  felt  a  cold  shiver  creep  over  him  as 
he  listened  to  this  frank  exposition  of  the  professor's 
mode  of  action. 

"  You  can  now  understand,"  remarked  the  professor, 
"  how  some  airs  become  popular  in  Paris.  I  have  forty 
pupils  all  trying  the  same  thing.  I  am  drilling  them 
now  in  the  Marguerite,  and  in  a  little  time  you  will 
have  nothing  else  in  the  streets." 

Poluche  was  proceeding  to  give  Tantaine  some 
further  information,  when  a  step  was  heard  upon  the 
stairs,  and  the  professor  remarked, — 

"Here  is  the  master;  he  never  comes  up  here,  be- 
cause he  is  afraid  of  the  stairs.  You  had  better  go 
down  to  him." 


278  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

DIAMOND    CUT   DIAMOND. 

THE  ex-cook  appeared  before  Tantaine  in  all  his  ap- 
palling vulgarity  as  the  latter  descended  the  stairs. 
The  proprietor  of  the  musical  academy  was  a  stout, 
red-faced  man,  with  an  insolent  mouth  and  a  cynical 
eye.  He  was  gorgeously  dressed,  and  wore  a  profusion 
of  jewelry.  He  was  much  startled  at  seeing  Tantaine, 
whom  he  knew  to  be  the  redoubtable  Mascarin's  right- 
hand  man.  "  A  thousand  thunders ! "  muttered  he.  "  If 
these  people  have  sent  him  here  for  me,  I  must  take 
care  what  I  am  about,"  and  with  a  friendly  smile  he 
extended  his  hand  to  Tantaine. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,"  said  he.  "  Now,  what  can  I  do 
for  you,  for  I  hope  you  have  come  to  ask  me  to  do 
something  ?  " 

"The  veriest  trifle,"  returned  Tantaine. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  it  is  not  something  of  importance, 
for  I  have  the  greatest  respect  for  M.  Mascarin." 

This  conversation  had  taken  place  in  the  window, 
and  was  interrupted  every  moment  by  the  shouts  and 
laughter  of  the  children;  but  beneath  these  sounds  of 
merriment  came  an  occasional  bitter  wail  of  lamenta- 
tion. 

"What  is  that?"  inquired  Perpignan,  in  a  voice  of 
thunder.  "  Who  presumes  to  be  unhappy  in  this  estab- 
lishment?" 

"  It  is  two  of  the  lads  that  I  have  put  on  half  ration," 
returned  Poluche.  "I'll  make  them  learn  somehow 
or " 


DIAMOND   CUT   DIAMOND  279 

A  dark  frown  on  the  master's  face  arrested  his 
further  speech.  "  What  do  I  hear  ?  "  roared  Perpignan. 
"Do  you  dare,  under  my  roof,  to  deprive  those  poor 
children  of  an  ounce  of  food  ?  It  .is  scandalous,  I  may 
say,  infamous,  on  your  part,  M.  Poluche." 

"But,  sir,"  faltered  the  professor,  "have  you  not 
told  me  hundreds  of  times " 

"That  you  were  an  idiot,  and  would  never  be  any- 
thing better.  Go  and  tell  Mother  Butor  to  give  these 
poor  children  their  dinner." 

Repressing  further  manifestations  of  rage,  Per- 
pignan took  Tantaine  by  the  arm  and  led  him  into  a 
little  side-room,  which  he  dignified  by  the  name  of  his 
office.  There  was  nothing  in  it  but  three  chairs,  a 
common  deal  table,  and  a  few  shelves  containing  leg- 
ers.  "You  have  come  on  business,  I  presume,"  re- 
marked Perpignan. 

Tantaine  nodded,  and  the  two  men  seated  themselves 
at  the  table,  gazing  keenly  into  each  other's  eyes,  as 
though  to  read  the  thoughts  that  moved  in  the  busy 
brain. 

"  How  did  you  find  out  my  little  establishment  down 
here?"  asked  Perpignan. 

"  By  a  mere  chance,"  remarked  Tantaine  carelessly. 
"  I  go  about  a  good  deal,  and  hear  many  things.  For 
instance,  you  have  taken  every  precaution  here,  and 
though  you  are  really  the  proprietor,  yet  the  husband 
of  your  cook  and  housekeeper,  Butor,  is  supposed  to 
be  the  owner  of  the  house — at  least  it  stands  in  his 
name.  Now,  if  anything  untoward  happened,  you 
would  vanish,  and  only  Butor  would  remain  a  prey  for 
the  police." 

Tantaine  paused  for  a  moment,  and  then  slowly 
added,  "  Such  tactics  usually  succeed  unless  a  man  has 


280  CAUGHT   IN   THE  NET 

some  secret  enemy,  who  would  take  advantage  of  his 
knowledge,  to  do  him  an  injury  by  obtaining  irrefrag- 
able proofs  of  his  complicity." 

The  ex-cook  easily  perceived  the  threat  that  was 
hidden  under  these  words.  "They  know  something," 
muttered  he,  "  and  I  must  find  out  what  it  is." 

"If  a  man  has  a  clear  conscience,"  said  he  aloud, 
"  he  is  all  right.  I  have  nothing  to  conceal,  and  there- 
fore nothing  to  fear.  You  have  now  seen  my  establish- 
ment; what  do  you  think  of  it?" 

"  It  seems  to  me  a  very  well-conducted  one." 

"  It  may  have  occurred  to  you  that  a  factory  at  Rou- 
baix  might  have  been  a  better  investment,  but  I  had  not 
the  capital  to  begin  with." 

Tantaine  nodded.  "  It  is  not  half  a  bad  trade,"  said 
he. 

"  I  agree  with  you.  In  the  Rue  St.  Marguerite  you 
will  find  more  than  one  similar  establishment;  but  I 
never  cared  for  the  situation  of  the  Faubourg  St.  An- 
toine.  My  little  angels  find  this  spot  more  salubrious." 

"Yes,  yes,"  answered  Tantaine  amicably,  "and  if 
they  howl  too  much  when  they  are  corrected,  there  are 
not  too  many  neighbors  to  hear  them." 

Perpignan  thought  it  best  to  take  no  notice  of  this 
observation.  "The  papers  are  always  pitching  into 
us,"  continued  he.  "They  had  much  better  stick  to 
politics.  The  fact  is,  that  the  profits  of  our  business 
are  tremendously  exaggerated." 

"Well,  you  manage  to  make  a  living  out  of  it?" 

"  I  don't  lose,  I  confess,  but  I  have  six  little  cherubs 
in  hospital,  besides  the  one  in  the  kitchen,  and  these, 
of  course,  are  a  dead  loss  to  me." 

"That  is  a  sad  thing  for  you,"  answered  Tantaine 
gravely. 


DIAMOND   CUT   DIAMOND  281 

Perpignan  began  to  be  amazed  at  his  visitor's  cool- 
ness. 

"  Damn  it  all/'  said  he,  "  if  you  and  Mascarin  think 
the  business  such  a  profitable  one,  why  don't  you  go 
in  for  it.  You  may  perhaps  think  it  easy  to  procure 
the  kids ;  just  try  it.  You  have  to  .go  to  Italy  for  most 
of  them,  then  you  have  to  smuggle  them  across  the 
frontier  like  bales  of  contraband  goods." 

Perpignan  paused  to  take  breath,  and  Tantaine 
asked, — 

"  What  sum  do  you  make  each  of  the  lads  bring  in 
daily?" 

"  That  depends,"  answered  Perpignan  hesitatingly. 

"  Well,  you  can  give  an  average  ?  " 

"  Say  three  francs  then/' 

"  Three  francs ! "  repeated  Tantaine  with  a  genial 
smile,  "  and  you  have  forty  little  cherubs,  so  that  makes 
one  hundred  and  twenty  francs  per  day." 

"  Absurd ! "  retorted  Perpignan ;  "  do  you  think  each 
of  the  lads  bring  in  such  a  sum  as  that?" 

"  Ah !  you  know  the  way  to  make  them  do  so." 

"I  don't  understand  you,"  answered  Perpignan,  in 
whose  voice  a  shade  of  anxiety  now  began  to  ap- 
pear. 

"  No  offence,  no  offence,"  answered  Tantaine ;  "  but 
the  fact  is,  the  newspapers  are  doing  you  a  great  deal 
of  harm,  by  retailing  some  of  the  means  adopted  by 
your  colleague  to  make  the  boys  do  a  good  day's  work. 
Do  you  recollect  the  sentence  on  that  master  who  tied 
one  of  his  lads  down  on  a  bed,  and  left  him  without 
food  for  two  days  at  a  stretch  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  about  such  matters ;  no  one  can  bring 
a  charge  of  cruelty  against  me,"  retorted  Perpignan 
angrily. 


282  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  A  man  with  the  kindest  heart  in  the  world  may  be 
the  victim  of  circumstances." 

Perpignan  felt  that  the  decisive  moment  was  at  hand. 

*  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  Well,  suppose,  to  punish  one  of  your  refractory 
lads,  you  were  to  shut  him  in  the  cellar.  A  storm  comes 
on  during  the  night,  the  gutter  gets  choked  up,  the 
cellar  fills  with  water,  and  next  morning  you  find  the 
little  cherub  drowned  like  a  rat  in  his  hole  ?  " 

Perpignan's  face  was  livid. 

"Well,  and  what  then?"  asked  he. 

"Ah!  now  the  awkward  part  of  the  matter  comes. 
You  would  not  care  to  send  for  the  police,  that  might 
excite  suspicion;  the  easiest  thing  is  to  dig  a  hole  and 
shove  the  body  into  it." 

Perpignan  got  up  and  placed  his  back  against  the  door. 

"  You  know  too  much,  M.  Tantaine, — a  great  deal 
too  much,"  said  he. 

Perpignan's  manner  was  most  threatening;  but  Tan- 
taine still  smiled  pleasantly,  like  a  child  who  has  just 
committed  some  simply  mischievous  act,  the  results  of 
which  it  cannot  foresee. 

"  The  sentence  isn't  heavy,"  he  continued ;  "  five 
years'  penal  servitude,  if  evidence  of  previous  good 
conduct  could  be  put  in ;  but  if  former  antecedents  were 
disclosed,  such  as  a  journey  to  Nancy " 

This  was  the  last  straw,  and  Perpignan  broke  out, — 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  he ;  "  and  what  do  you 
want  me  to  do  ?  " 

"  Only  a  trifling  service,  as  I  told  you  before.  My 
dear  sir,  do  not  put  yourself  in  a  rage,"  he  added,  as 
Perpignan  seemed  disposed  to  speak  again.  "Was  it 
not  you  who  first  began  to  talk  of  your,  'em — well,  let 
us  say  business?" 


DIAMOND   CUT   DIAMOND  283 

"Then  you  wanted  to  make  yourself  agreeable  by 
talking  all  this  rot  to  me.  Well,  shall  I  tell  you  in  my 
turn  what  I  think?" 

"  By  all  means,  if  it  will  not  be  giving  you  too  much 
trouble." 

"Then  I  tell  you  that  you  have  come  here  on  an 
errand  which  no  man  should  venture  to  do  alone.  You 
are  not  of  the  age  and  build  for  business  like  this.  It 
is  a  misfortune — a  fatal  one  perhaps — to  put  yourself 
in  my  power,  in  such  a  house  as  this." 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,  what  is  likely  to  happen  to  me  ?  " 

The  features  of  the  ex-cook  were  convulsed  with 
fury ;  he  was  in  that  mad  state  of  rage  in  which  a  man 
has  no  control  over  himself.  Mechanically  his  hand 
slipped  into  his  pocket ;  but  before  he  could  draw  it  out 
again,  Tantaine  who  had  not  lost  one  of  his  move- 
ments, sprang  upon  him  and  grasped  him  so  tightly  by 
the  throat  that  he  was  powerless  to  adopt  any  offensive 
measures,  in  spite  of  his  great  strength  and  robust 
build.  The  struggle  was  not  a  long  one ;  the  old  man 
hurled  his  adversary  to  the  ground,  and  placed  his  foot 
on  his  chest,  and  held  him  down,  his  whole  face  and 
figure  seemingly  transfigured  with  the  glories  of 
strength  and  success. 

"  And  so  you  wished  to  stab  me, — to  murder  a  poor 
and  inoffensive  old  man.  Do  you  think  that  I  was  fool 
enough  to  enter  your  cut-throat  door  without  taking 
proper  precautions  ?  "  And  as  he  spoke  he  drew  a  re- 
volver from  his  bosom.  "Throw  away  your  knife," 
added  he  sternly. 

In  obedience  to  this  mandate,  Perpignan,  who  was 
now  entirely  demoralized,  threw  the  sharp-pointed 
weapon  which  he  had  contrived  to  open  in  his  pocket 
into  a  corner  of  the  room. 


284  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

"  Good,"  said  Tantaine.  "  You  are  growing  more 
reasonable  now.  Of  course  I  came  alone,  but  do  you 
think  that  plenty  of  people  did  not  know  where  I  was 
going  to?  Had  I  not  returned  to-night,  do  you  think 
that  my  master,  M.  Mascarin,  would  have  been  satis- 
fied? and  how  long  do  you  think  that  it  would  have 
been  before  he  and  the  police  would  have  been  here? 
If  you  do  not  do  all  that  I  wish  for  the  rest  of  your 
life,  you  will  be  the 'most  ungrateful  fellow  in  the 
world." 

Perpignan  was  deeply  mortified ;  he  had  been  worsted 
in  single  combat,  and  now  he  was  being  found  out,  and 
these  things  had  never  happened  to  him  before. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  that  I  must  give  in,"  answered  he 
sulkily. 

"  Quite  so ;  it  is  a  pity  that  you  did  not  think  of  that 
before." 

"  You  vexed  me  and  made  me  angry." 

"Just  so;  well,  now,  get  up,  take  that  chair,  and  let 
us  talk  reasonably." 

Perpignan  obeyed  without  a  word. 

"  Now,"  said  Tantaine,  "  I  came  here  with  a  really 
magnificent  proposal.  But  I  adopted  the  course  I  pur- 
sued because  I  wished  to  prove  to  you  that  you  belonged 
more  absolutely  to  Mascarin  than  did  your  wretched 
foreign  slaves  to  you.  You  are  absolutely  at  his  mercy, 
and  he  can  crush  you  to  powder  whenever  he  likes." 

"  Your  Mascarin  is  Satan  himself,"  muttered  the  dis- 
comfited man.  "  Who  can  resist  him  ?  " 

"Come,  as  you  think  thus,  we  can  talk  sensibly  at 
last." 

"  Well,"  answered  Perpignan  ruefully,  as  he  adjusted 
his  disordered  necktie,  "  say  what  you  like,  I  have  no 
answer  to  make." 


DIAMOND   CUT   DIAMOND  285 

"  Let  us  begin  at  the  commencement,"  said  Tantaine. 
*  For  some  days  past  your  people  have  been  following 
a  certain  Caroline  Schimmel.  A  fellow  of  sixteen, 
called  Ambrose,  a  lad  with  a  harp,  was  told  off  for  this 
duty.  He  is  not  to  be  trusted.  Only  a  night  or  two 
ago  one  of  my  men  made  him  drunk;  and  fearing  lest 
his  absence  might  create  surprise,  drove  him  here  in  a 
cab,  and  left  him  at  the  corner." 

The  ex-cook  uttered  an  oath. 

"  Then  you  too  are  watching  Caroline,"  said  he.  "  I 
knew  well  that  there  was  some  one  else  in  the  field,  but 
that  was  no  matter  of  mine." 

"Well,  tell  me  why  you  are  watching  her?" 

"  How  can  you  ask  me  ?  You  know  that  my  motto 
is  silence  and  discretion,  and  that  this  is  a  secret  in- 
trusted to  my  honor." 

Tantaine  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Why  do  you  talk  like  that,  when  you  know  very 
well  that  you  are  following  Ambrose  on  your  own  ac- 
count, hoping  by  that  means  to  penetrate  a  secret,  only 
a  small  portion  of  which  has  been  intrusted  to  you  ?  " 
remarked  he. 

"Are  you  certain  of  this  statement?"  asked  the 
man,  with  a  cunning  look. 

"  So  sure  that  I  can  tell  you  that  the  matter  was 
placed  in  your  hands  by  a  certain  M.  Catenae." 

The  expression  in  Perpignan's  face  changed  from 
astonishment  to  fear. 

"Why,  this  Mascarin  knows  everything,"  muttered  he. 

"  No,"  replied  Tantaine,  "  my  master  does  not  know 
everything,  and  the  proof  of  this  is,  that  I  have  come 
to  ask  you  what  occurred  between  Catenae's  client  and 
yourself,  and  this  is  the  service  that  we  expect  from 
you." 


286  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  Well,  if  I  must,  I  must.  About  three  weeks  ago, 
one  morning,  I  had  just  finished  with  half  a  dozen 
clients  at  my  office  in  the  Rue  de  Fame,  when  my  ser- 
vant brought  me  Catenae's  card.  After  some  talk,  he 
asked  me  if  I  could  find  out  a  person  that  he  had  utterly 
lost  sight  of.  Of  course  I  said,  yes,  I  could.  Upon 
this  he  asked  me  to  make  an  appointment  for  ten  the 
next  morning,  when  some  one  would  call  on  me  regard- 
ing the  affair.  At  the  appointed  time  a  shabbily  dressed 
man  was  shown  in.  I  looked  at  him  up  and  down,  and 
saw  that,  in  spite  of  his  greasy  hat  and  threadbare  coat, 
his  linen  was  of  the  finest  kind,  and  that  his  shoes 
were  the  work  of  one  of  our  best  bootmakers.  '  Aha/ 
said  I  to  myself,  '  you  thought  to  take  me  in,  did  you ! ' 
I  handed  him  a  chair,  and  he  at  once  proceeded  to  let 
me  into  his  reasons  for  coming.  '  Sir/  said  he,  '  my 
life  has  not  been  a  very  happy  one,  and  once  I  was 
compelled  to  take  to  the  Foundling  Asylum  a  child  that 
I  loved  very  dearly,  the  son  of  a  woman  whom  I 
adored.  She  is  dead  now,  and  I  am  old  and  solitary. 
I  have  a  small  property,  and  would  give  half  of  it  to 
recover  the  child.  Tell  me,  is  there  any  chance  of  my 
doing  so  ? '  You  must  imagine,  my  dear  sir/'  continued 
he,  after  a  slight  pause,  "  that  I  was  much  interested  in 
this  story,  for  I  said  to  myself,  that  the  man's  fortune 
must  be  a  very  small  one  if  half  of  it  would  not  amply 
repay  me  for  making  a  journey  to  the  Foundling  Hos- 
pital. So  I  agreed  to  undertake  the  business,  but  the 
old  fellow  was  too  sharp  for  me.  (  Stop  a  bit,  and  let 
me  finish/  said  he,  'and  you  will  see  that  your 
task  will  not  be  so  easy  as  you  seem  to  think  it.' 
I,  of  course,  bragged  of  my  enormous  sources  of 
information,  and  the  probability  of  ultimate  suc- 
cess." 


DIAMOND   CUT   DIAMOND  287 

"  Keep  to  your  story,"  said  Tantaine  impatiently,  "  I 
know  all  about  that." 

"  I  will  leave  you,  then,  to  imagine  all  I  said  to  the 
old  man,  who  listened  to  me  with  great  satisfaction. 
'  I  only  hope  that  you  are  as  skilful  as  M.  Catenae  says 
you  are,  and  have  as  much  influence  and  power  as  you 
assert,  for  no  man  has  a  finer  chance  than  you  now 
have.  I  have  tried  all  means  up  to  this,  but  I  have 
failed/  I  went  first  to  the  hospital  where  the  child 
had  been  placed,  and  they  showed  me  the  register  con- 
taining the  date  of  his  admission,  but  no  one  knew  what 
had  become  of  him,  for  at  twelve  years  of  age  he  had 
left  the  place,  and  no  one  had  heard  of  him  since; 
and  in  spite  of  every  effort,  I  have  been  unable  to  dis- 
cover whether  he  was  alive  or  dead." 

"  A  pretty  riddle  to  guess,"  remarked  Tantaine. 

"An  enigma  that  it  is  impossible  to  solve,"  returned 
Perpignan.  "How  is  one  to  get  hold  of  a  boy  who 
vanished  ten  years  ago,  and  who  must  now  be  a  grown- 
up man  ?  " 

"We  could  do  it." 

Tantaine's  tone  was  so  decided,  that  the  other  man 
looked  sharply  at  him  with  a  vague  suspicion  rising  in 
his  breast  that  the  affair  had  also  been  placed  in  Mas- 
carin's  hands;  and  if  so,  whether  he  had  worked  it 
with  more  success  than  himself. 

"  You  might,  for  all  I  know ;  but  I  felt  that  the  clue 
was  absolutely  wanting,"  answered  Perpignan  sulkily. 
"  I  put  on  a  bold  face,  however,  and  asked  for  the  boy's 
description.  The  man  told  me  that  he  could  provide 
me  with  an  accurate  one,  for  that  many  people,  notably 
the  lady  superior,  remembered  the  lad.  He  could  also 
give  other  details  which  might  be  useful." 

"  And  these  you  obtained,  of  course  ?  " 


288  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"Not  yet/' 

"Are  you  joking?" 

"  Not  a  bit.  I  do  not  know  whether  the  old  man 
was  sharp  enough  to  read  in  the  expression  of  my 
features  that  I  had  not  the  smallest  hope  of  success; 
be  that  as  it  may,  he  could  give  me  no  further  informa- 
tion that  day,  declaring  that  he  came  in  only  to  consult 
me,  and  that  everything  must  be  done  in  a  most  confi- 
dential way.  I  hastened  to  assure  him  that  my  office 
was  a  perfect  tomb  of  secrets.  He  told  me  that  he  took 
that  for  granted.  Then  telling  me  that  he  wished  me 
to  draw  up  a  precis  of  my  intended  course,  he  took  out 
a  note  for  five  hundred  francs,  which  he  handed  to  me 
for  my  time.  I  refused  to  take  it,  though  it  cost  me 
a  struggle  to  do  so,  for  I  thought  that  I  should  make 
more  out  of  him  later  on.  But  he  insisted  on  my  tak- 
ing it,  saying  that  he  would  see  me  again  soon,  and 
that  Catenae  would  communicate  with  me.  He  left 
me  less  interested  in  the  search  than  in  who  this  old 
man  could  possibly  be." 

Tantaine  felt  that  Perpignan  was  telling  the  truth. 

"  Did  you  not  try  and  find  out  that  ?  "  asked  he. 

Perpignan  hesitated ;  but  feeling  convinced  that  there 
was  no  loophole  for  escape,  he  answered,  "  Hardly  had 
my  visitor  left  than,  slipping  on  a  cap  and  a  workman's 
blouse,  I  followed  in  his  track,  and  saw  him  enter  one 
of  the  finest  houses  in  the  Rue  de  Varennes." 

"He  lived  there  then?" 

"  He  did,  and  he  was  a  very  well-known  man — the 
Duke  de  Champdoce." 

a  Yes,  I  know  all  that,"  answered  Tantaine,  placidly, 
"  but  I  can't,  for  the  life  of  me,  imagine  the  connection 
between  the  Duke  and  Caroline  Schimmel." 

Perpignan  raised  his  eyebrows. 


DIAMOND   CUT   DIAMOND  289 

"Why  did  you  put  a  man  to  watch  her?"  asked 
Tantaine. 

"My  reasons  for  doing  so  were  most  simple.  I 
made  every  inquiry  regarding  the  Duke;  learned  that 
he  was  very  wealthy,  and  lived  a  very  steady  life.  He 
is  married,  and  loves  his  wife  dearly.  They  had  one 
son,  whom  they  lost  a  year  ago,  and  have  never  recov- 
ered from  the  shock.  I  imagine  that  this  Duke,  having 
lost  his  legitimate  heir,  wishes  me  to  find  his  other  son. 
Do  you  not  think  that  I  am  right  ?  " 

"  There  is  something  in  it ;  but,  after  all,  you  have 
not  explained  your  reasons  for  watching  Caroline/' 

Perpignan  was  no  match  for  Mascarin's  right-hand 
man,  but  he  was  keen  enough  to  discern  that  Tantaine 
was  putting  a  string  of  questions  to  him  which  had  been 
prepared  in  advance.  This  he,  however,  was  powerless 
to  resent. 

"  As  you  may  believe,"  said  he,  "  I  made  every  in- 
quiry into  the  past  as  well  as  the  present  of  the  Duke, 
and  also  tried  to  discover  who  was  the  mother  of  the 
child,  but  in  this  I  entirely  failed." 

"What!  not  with  all  your  means?"  cried  Tantaine, 
with  a  sneer. 

"  Laugh  at  me  as  much  as  you  like ;  but  out  of  the 
thirty  servants  in  the  Champdoce  establishment,  not 
one  has  been  there  more  than  ten  years.  Nor  could 
I  anywhere  lay  my  hands  upon  one  who  had  been  in 
the  Duke's  service  in  his  youth.  Once,  however,  as 
I  was  in  the  wineshop  in  the  Rue  de  Varennes,  I  quite 
by  chance  heard  allusion  made  to  a  woman  who  had 
been  in  the  service  of  the  Duke  twenty-five  years  ago, 
and  who  was  now  in  receipt  of  a  small  allowance  from 
him.  This  woman  was  Caroline  Schimmel.  I  easily 
found  out  her  address,  and  set  a  watch  on  her." 


290  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"And  of  what  use  will  she  be  to  you?" 

"  Very  little,  I  fear.  And  yet  the  allowance  looks  as 
if  she  had  at  one  time  done  something  out  of  the  way 
for  her  employers.  Can  it  be  that  she  has  any  knowl- 
edge of  the  birth  of  this  natural  child  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  much  of  your  idea/'  returned  Tan- 
taine  carelessly. 

"  Since  then,"  continued  Perpignan,  "  the  Duke  has 
never  put  in  an  appearance  at  my  office." 

"But  how  about  Catenae?" 

"  I  have  seen  him  three  times." 

"  Has  he  told  you  nothing  more  ?  Do  you  not  even 
know  in  which  hospital  the  child  was  placed  ?  " 

"  No ;  and  on  my  last  visit  I  plainly  told  him  that  I 
was  getting  sick  of  all  this  mystery;  and  he  said  that 
he  himself  was  tired,  and  was  sorry  that  he  had  ever 
meddled  in  the  affair." 

Tantaine  was  not  surprised  at  hearing  this,  and  ac- 
counted for  Catenae's  change  of  front  by  the  threats 
of  Mascarin. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  draw  from  this  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  That  Catenae  has  no  more  information  than  I  have. 
The  Duke  most  likely  proposes  to  drop  the  affair;  but, 
were  I  in  his  place,  I  should  be  afraid  to  find  the  boy, 
however  much  I  might  at  one  time  have  desired  to  do 
so.  He  may  be  in  prison — the  most  likely  thing  for  a 
lad  who,  at  twelve  years  of  age,  ran  away  from  a  place 
where  he  was  well  treated.  I  have,  however,  planned 
a  mode  of  operation,  for,  with  patience,  money,  and 
skill,  much  might  be  done." 

"  I  agree  with  you." 

"Then  let  me  tell  you.  I  have  drawn  an  imaginary 
circle  round  Paris.  I  said  to  myself,  '  I  will  visit  every 
house  and  inn  in  the  villages  round  within  this  radius ; 


DIAMOND   CUT   DIAMOND  291 

I  will  enter  every  isolated  dwelling,  and  will  say  to  the 
inhabitants,  "Do  any  of  you  remember  at  any  time 
sheltering  and  feeding  a  child,  dressed  in  such  and 
such  a  manner  ?  " '  giving  at  the  same  time  a  descrip- 
tion of  him.  I  am  sure  that  I  should  find  some  one 
who  would  answer  in  the  affirmative.  Then  I  should 
gain  a  clue  which  I  would  follow  up  to  the  end." 

This  plan  appeared  so  ingenious  to  Tantaine,  that 
he  involuntarily  exclaimed, — 

"Good!  excellent!" 

Perpignan  hardly  knew  whether  Tantaine  was  prais- 
ing or  blaming  him.  His  manner  might  have  meant 
either. 

"You  are  very  fast/'  returned  he  dismally.  "Per- 
haps presently  you  will  be  good  enough  to  allow  that 
I  am  not  an  absolute  fool.  Do  you  really  think  that 
I  am  an  idiot?  At  any  rate,  I  sometimes  hit  upon  a 
judicious  combination.  For  example,  with  regard  to 
this  boy,  I  have  a  notion  which,  if  properly  worked 
might  lead  to  something." 

"Might  I  ask  what  it  is?" 

"I  speak  confidentially.  If  it  is  impossible  to  lay 
our  hands  upon  the  real  boy,  why  should  we  not  sub- 
stitute another?" 

At  this  suggestion,  Tantaine  started  violently. 

"  It  would  be  most  dangerous,  most  hazardous," 
gasped  he. 

"You  are  afraid,  then?"  said  Perpignan,  delighted 
at  the  effect  his  proposal  had  made. 

"  It  seems  it  is  you  who  were  afraid,"  retorted  Tan- 
taine. 

"You  do  not  know  me  when  you  say  that,"  said 
Perpignan. 

"  If  you  were  not  afraid,"  asked  Tantaine,  in  his 


292  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

most  oily  voice,  "why  did  you  not  carry  out  your 
plan?" 

"  Because  there  was  one  obstacle  that  could  not  be 
got  over." 

"Well,  I  can't  see  it  myself/'  returned  Tantaine, 
desirous  of  hearing  every  detail. 

"  Ah,  there  is  one  thing  that  I  omitted  in  my  narra- 
tive. The  Duke  informed  me  that  he  could  prove  the 
identity  of  the  boy  by  certain  scars." 

"  Scars  ?    And  of  what  kind,  pray  ?  " 

"  Now  you  are  asking  me  too  much.  I  do  not 
know." 

On  receiving  this  reply,  Tantaine  rose  hastily  from 
his  chair,  and  thus  concealed  his  agitation  from  his 
companion. 

"  I  have  a  hundred  apologies  to  make  for  taking  up 
so  much  of  your  valuable  time.  My  master  has  got  it 
into  his  head  that  you  were  after  the  same  game  as 
ourselves.  He  was  mistaken,  and  now  we  leave  the 
field  clear  to  you." 

Before  Perpignan  could  make  any  reply,  the  old  man 
had  passed  through  the  doorway.  On  the  threshold  he 
paused,  and  said, — 

"  Were  I  in  your  place,  I  would  stick  to  my  first 
plan.  You  will  never  find  the  boy,  but  you  will  get 
several  thousand  francs  out  of  the  Duke,  which  I  am 
sure  will  come  in  handy." 

"  There  are  scars  now,  then,"  muttered  Tantaine,  as 
he  moved  away  from  the  house,  "and  that  Master 
Catenae  never  said  a  word  about  them  1 " 


FATHER  AND   SON  293 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

FATHER  AND   SON. 

Two  hours  after  Andre  had  left  the  Avenue  de  Ma- 
tignon,  one  of  Mascarin's  most  trusty  emissaries  was 
at  his  heels,  who  could  watch  his  actions  with  the  te- 
nacity of  a  bloodhound.  Andre,  however,  now  that  he 
had  heard  of  Sabine's  convalescence,  had  entirely  re- 
covered the  elasticity  of  his  spirits,  and  would  never 
have  noticed  that  he  was  being  followed.  His  heart, 
too,  was  much  rejoiced  at  the  friendship  of  M.  de 
Breulh  and  the  promise  of  assistance  from  the  Vis- 
countess de  Bois  Arden;  and  with  the  assistance  of 
these  two,  he  felt  that  he  could  end  his  difficulties. 

"  I  must  get  to  work  again,"  muttered  he,  as  he  left 
M.  de  Breulh's  hospitable  house.  "  I  have  already  lost 
too  much  time.  To-morrow,  if  you  look  up  at  the 
scaffolding  of  a  splendid  house  in  the  Champs  Elysees, 
you  will  see  me  at  work." 

Andre  was  busy  all  night  with  his  plans  for  the  rich 
contractor,  M.  Gandelu,  who  wanted  as  much  orna- 
mental work  on  the  outside  of  his  house  as  he  had 
florid  decorations  within.  He  rose  with  the  lark,  and 
having  gazed  for  a  moment  on  Sabine's  portrait,  started 
for  the  abode  of  M.  Gandelu,  the  proud  father  of 
young  Gaston.  This  celebrated  contractor  lived  in  a 
splendid  house  in  the  Rue  Chasse  d'Antin,  until  his 
more  palatial  residence  should  be  completed. 

When  Andre  presented  himself  at  the  door,  an  old 
servant,  who  knew  him  well,  strongly  urged  him  not 
to  go  up. 


294  CAUGHT   IN    THE   NET 

"  Never,"  said  he,  "  in  all  the  time  that  I  have  been 
with  master,  have  I  seen  him  in  such  a  towering  rage. 
Only  just  listen !  " 

It  was  easy  to  hear  the  noise  alluded  to,  mingled 
with  the  breaking  of  glass  and  the  smashing  of  furni- 
ture. 

"The  master  has  been  at  this  game  for  over  an 
hour,"  remarked  the  servant,  "  ever  since  his  lawyer, 
M.  Catenae,  has  left  him." 

Andre,  however,  decided  not  to  postpone  his  visit. 
"  I  must  see  him  in  spite  of  everything ;  show  me  up," 
said  he. 

With  evident  reluctance  the  domestic  obeyed,  and 
threw  open  the  door  of  a  room  superbly  furnished  and 
decorated,  in  the  centre  of  which  stood  M.  Gandelu 
waving  the  leg  of  a  chair  frantically  in  his  hand.  He 
was  a  man  of  sixty  years  of  age,  but  did  not  look  fifty, 
built  like  a  Hercules,  with  huge  hands  and  muscular 
limbs  which  seemed  to  fret  under  the  restraint  of  his 
fashionable  garments.  He  had  made  his  enormous  for- 
tune, of  which  he  was  considerably  proud,  by  honest 
labor,  and  no  one  could  say  that  he  had  not  acted  fairly 
throughout  his  whole  career.  He  was  coarse  and  vio- 
lent in  his  manner,  but  he  had  a  generous  heart  and 
never  refused  aid  to  the  deserving  and  needy.  He 
swore  like  a  trooper,  and  his  grammar  was  faulty;  but 
for  all  that,  his  heart  was  in  the  right  place,  and  he 
was  a  better  man  than  many  who  boast  of  high  birth 
and  expensive  education. 

"  What  idiot  is  coming  here  to  annoy  me  ?  "  roared 
he,  as  soon  as  the  door  was  opened. 

"I  have  come  by  appointment,"  answered  Andre, 
and  the  contractor's  brow  cleared  as  he  saw  who  his 
visitor  was. 


FATHER   AND    SON  295 

"Ah,  it  is  you,  is  it?  Take  a  seat;  that  is,  if  there 
is  a  sound  chair  left  in  the  room.  I  like  you,  for  you 
have  an  honest  face  and  don't  shirk  hard  work.  You 
needn't  color  up,  though;  modesty  is  no  fault.  Yes, 
there  is  something  in  you,  and  when  you  want  a  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  to  go  into  business  with,  here  it 
is  ready  for  you;  and  had  I  a  daughter,  you  should 
marry  her,  and  I  would  build  your  house  for  you." 

"  I  thank  you  much,"  said  Andre ;  "  but  I  have 
learned  to  depend  entirely  on  myself." 

"True,"  returned  Gandelu,  "you  never  knew  your 
parents;  you  never  knew  what  a  kind  father  would  do 
for  his  child.  Do  you  know  my  son  ?  "  asked  he,  sud- 
denly turning  upon  Andre. 

This  question  at  once  gave  Andre  the  solution  of  the 
scene  before  him.  M.  Gandelu  was  irritated  at  some 
folly  that  his  son  had  committed.  For  a  moment 
Andre  hesitated;  he  did  not  care  to  say  anything  that 
might  revive  the  old  man's  feeling  of  anger,  and  there- 
fore merely  replied  that  he  had  only  met  his  son  Gaston 
two  or  three  times. 

"Gaston,"  cried  the  old  man,  with  a  bitter  oath; 
"  do  not  call  him  that.  Do  you  think  it  likely  that  old 
Nicholas  Gandelu  would  ever  have  been  ass  enough  to 
call  his  son  Gaston?  He  was  called  Peter,  after  his 
grandfather,  but  it  wasn't  a  good  enough  one  for  the 
young  fool;  he  wanted  a  swell  name,  and  Peter  had 
too  much  the  savor  of  hard  work  in  it  for  my  fine 
gentleman.  But  that  isn't  all;  I  could  let  that  pass," 
continued  the  old  man.  "  Pray,  have  you  seen  his 
cards?  Over  the  name  of  Gaston  de  Gandelu  is  a 
count's  coronet.  He  a  count  indeed!  the  son  of  a 
man  who  has  carried  a  hod  for  years ! " 

"Young  people  will  be  young  people,"  Andre  ven- 


296  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

tured  to  observe;  but  the  old  man's  wrath  would  not 
be  assuaged  by  a  platitude  like  this. 

"  You  can  find  no  excuse  for  him,  only  the  fellow  is 
absolutely  ashamed  of  his  father.  He  consorts  with 
titled  fools  and  is  in  the  seventh  heaven  if  a  waiter 
addresses  him  as  ' Count/  not  seeing  that  it  is  not  he 
that  is  treated  with  respect,  but  the  gold  pieces  of  his 
old  father,  the  working  man." 

Andre's  position  was  now  a  most  painful  one,  and 
he  would  have  given  a  good  deal  not  to  be  the  re- 
cipient of  a  confidence  which  was  the  result  of  anger. 

"He  is  only  twenty,  and  yet  see  what  a  wreck  he 
is,"  resumed  Gandelu.  "  His  eyes  are  dim,  and  he  is 
getting  bald ;  he  stoops,  and  spends  his  nights  in  drink 
and  bad  company.  I  have,  however,  only  myself  to 
blame,  for  I  have  been  far  too  lenient;  and  if  he  had 
asked  me  for  my  head,  I  believe  that  I  should  have 
given  it  to  him.  He  had  only  to  ask  and  have.  After 
my  wife's  death,  I  had  only  the  boy.  Do  you  know 
what  he  has  in  this  house?  Why,  rooms  fit  for  a 
prince,  two  servants  and  four  horses.  I  allow  him, 
monthly,  fifteen  hundred  francs,  and  he  goes  about 
calling  me  a  niggard,  and  has  already  squandered  every 
bit  of  his  poor  mother's  fortune."  He  stopped,  and 
turned  pale,  for  at  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and 
young  Gaston,  or  rather  Peter,  slouched  into  the  room. 

"  It  is  the  common  fate  of  fathers  to  be  disappointed 
in  their  offspring,  and  to  see  the  sons  who  ought  to 
have  been  their  honor  and  glory  the  scourge  to  punish 
their  worldly  aspirations,"  exclaimed  the  old  man. 

"Good!  that  is  really  a  very  telling  speech,"  mur- 
mured Gaston  approvingly,  "  considering  that  you  have 
not  made  a  special  study  of  elocution." 

Fortunately  his  father  did  not  catch  these  words,  and 


FATHER   AND   SON  297, 

continued  in  a  voice  broken  by  emotion,  "That,  M. 
Andre,  is  my  son,  who  for  twenty  years  has  been  my 
sole  care.  Well,  believe  it  or  not,  as  you  like,  he  has 
been  speculating  on  my  death,  as  you  might  speculate 
on  a  race-horse  at  Vincennes." 

"  No,  no/'  put  in  Gaston,  but  his  father  stopped  him 
with  a  disdainful  gesture. 

"Have  at  least  the  courage  to  acknowledge  your 
fault.  You  thought  me  blind  because  I  said  nothing, 
but  your  past  conduct  has  opened  my  eyes." 

"But,  father!" 

"  Do  not  attempt  to  deny  it.  This  very  morning  my 
man  of  business,  M.  Catenae,  wrote  to  me,  and  with 
that  real  courage  which  only  true  friends  possess,  told 
me  all.  I  must  tell  you,  M.  Andre,"  resumed  the  con- 
tractor, "  I  was  ill.  I  had  a  severe  attack  of  the  gout, 
such  as  a  man  seldom  recovers  from,  and  my  son  was 
constant  in  his  attendance  at  my  sick  couch.  This  con- 
soled me.  '  He  loves  me  after  all/  said  I.  But  it  was 
only  my  testamentary  arrangements  that  he  wanted  to 
discover,  and  he  went  straight  to  a  money-lender  called 
Clergot  and  raised  a  hundred  thousand  francs,  assuring 
the  blood-sucker  that  I  had  not  many  hours  to  live." 

"  It  is  a  lie ! "  cried  Gaston,  his  face  crimsoning  with 
shame. 

The  old  man  raised  the  leg  of  the  chair  in  his  hand, 
and  made  so  threatening  a  movement  that  Andre  flung 
himself  between  father  and  son.  "  Great  heavens !  " 
cried  he,  "  think  what  you  are  doing,  sir,  and  forbear." 

The  old  man  paused,  passed  his  hand  round  his  brow, 
and  flung  the  weapon  into  a  remote  corner  of  the  room. 
"  I  thank  you,"  said  he,  grasping  Andre's  hand ;  "  you 
have  saved  me  from  a  great  crime.  In  another  moment 
I  should  have  murdered  him." 


298  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

Gaston  was  no  coward,  and  he  still  retained  the  posi- 
tion he  had  been  in  before. 

"  This  is  quite  romantic,"  muttered  he.  "  The  gov- 
ernor seems  to  be  going  in  for  infanticide." 

Andre  did  not  allow  him  to  finish  the  sentence,  for, 
grasping  the  young  man's  wrist,  he  whispered  fiercely, 
"  Not  another  word ;  silence ! " 

"  But  I  want  to  know  what  it  all  means  ?  "  answered 
the  irrepressible  youth. 

"  I  had  in  my  hands,"  said  the  old  man,  addressing 
Andre,  and  ignoring  the  presence  of  his  son,  the  im- 
portant paper  he  had  copied.  Yes;  not  more  than  an 
hour  ago  I  read  it.  These  were  the  terms :  if  I  died 
within  eight  days  from  the  date  of  signature,  my  son 
agreed  to  pay  a  bonus  of  thirty  thousand  francs ;  but  if 
I  lived  for  one  month,  he  would  take  up  the  bill  by 
paying  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  If,  however, 
by  any  unforeseen  chance,  I  should  recover  entirely,  he 
bound  himself  to  pay  Clergot  the  hundred  thousand 
francs." 

The  old  man  tore  the  cravat  from  his  swelling  throat, 
and  wiped  the  beads  of  cold  sweat  that  bedewed  his 
brow. 

"  When  this  man  recovers  his  self-command," 
thought  Andre,  "he  will  never  forgive  me  for  having 
been  the  involuntary  listener  to  this  terrible  tale."  But 
in  this  Andre  was  mistaken,  for  unsophisticated  nature 
requires  sympathy,  and  Nicholas  Gandelu  would  have 
said  the  same  to  the  first  comer. 

"  Before,  however,  delivering  the  hundred  thousand 
francs,  the  usurer  wished  to  make  himself  more  secure, 
and  asked  for  a  certificate  from  some  one  who  had  seen 
me.  This  person  was  his  friend.  He  spoke  to  me  of  a 
medical  man,  a  specialist,  who  would  understand  my 


FATHER   AND    SON  299 

case  at  once.  Would  I  not  see  him  ?  Never  had  I  seen 
my  son  so  tender  and  affectionate.  I  yielded  to  his 
entreaties  at  last,  and  one  evening  I  said  to  him,  f  Bring 
in  this  wonderful  physician,  if  you  really  think  he  can 
do  anything  for  me/  and  he  did  bring  him. 

"  Yes,  M.  Andre,  he  found  a  medical  man  base  and 
vile  enough  to  become  the  tool  of  my  son,  and  a  money- 
lender ;  and  if  I  choose,  I  can  expose  him  to  the  loath- 
ing of  the  world,  and  the  contempt  of  his  brethren. 

"  The  fellow  came,  and  his  visit  lasted  nearly  an 
hour.  I  can  see  him  now,  asking  questions  and  feeling 
my  pulse.  He  went  away  at  last,  and  my  son  followed 
him.  They  both  met  Clergot,  who  was  waiting  in  the 
street.  *  You  can  pay  him  the  cash ;  the  old  man  won't 
last  twenty- four  hours  longer/  said  the  doctor;  and 
then  my  son  came  back  happy  and  radiant,  and  assured 
me  that  I  should  soon  be  well  again.  And  strange  as 
it  may  seem,  a  change  for  the  better  took  place  that  very 
night.  Clergot  had  asked  for  forty-eight  hours  in 
which  to  raise  the  sum  required.  He  heard  of  my  con- 
valescence, and  my  son  lost  the  money. 

"Was  it  courage  you  lacked?"  asked  the  old  man, 
turning  for  the  first  time  to  his  son.  "  Did  you  not 
know  that  ten  drops  instead  of  one  of  the  medicine  I 
was  taking  would  have  freed  you  from  me  for  ever  ?  " 

Gaston  did  not  seem  at  all  overwhelmed.  Indeed,  he 
was  wondering  how  the  matter  had  reached  his  father's 
ears,  and  how  Catenae  had  discovered  the  rough  draft 
of  the  agreement. 

The  contractor  had  imagined  that  his  son  would  im- 
plore forgiveness;  but  seeing  that  he  remained  ob- 
durate, his  violence  burst  forth  again.  "And  do  you 
know  what  use  my  son  would  make  of  my  fortune? 
He  would  squander  it  on  a  creature  he  picked  up  out 


300  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

of  the  streets, — a  woman  he  called  Madame  de 
Chantemille, — a  fit  companion  for  a  noble  count !  " 

The  shaft  had  penetrated  the  impassibility  which 
Gaston  had  up  to  this  displayed.  "You  shall  not  in- 
sult Zora,"  said  he. 

"  I  shall  not/'  returned  his  father  with  a  grim  laugh, 
"  take  the  trouble  to  do  that ;  you  are  not  of  age,  and  I 
shall  clap  your  friend  Madame  de  Chantemille  into 
prison." 

"  You  would  not  do  that !  " 

"Would  I  not?  You  are  a  minor;  but  your  Zora, 
whose  real  name  is  Rose,  is  much  older;  the  law  is 
wholly  on  my  side." 

"But  father " 

"  There  is  no  use  in  crying ;  my  lawyer  has  the  mat- 
ter in  hand,  and  by  nightfall  your  Zora  will  be  securely 
/:aged." 

This  blow  was  so  cruel  and  unexpected,  that  the 
young  man  could  only  repeat, — 

"  Zora  in  prison !  " 

"Yes,  in  the  House  of  Correction,  and  from  thence 
fa  Saint  Lazare.  Catenae  told  me  the  very  things  to 
be  done." 

"  Shameful !  "  exclaimed  Gaston,  "  Zora  in  prison ! 
Why,  I  and  my  friends  will  lay  siege  to  the  place.  I 
will  go  to  the  Court,  stand  by  her  side,  and  depose  that 
this  all  comes  from  your  devilish  malignity.  I  will  say 
that  I  love  and  esteem  her,  and  that  as  soon  as  I  am 
of  age  I  will  marry  her;  the  papers  will  write  about 
us.  Go  on,  go  on ;  I  rather  like  the  idea." 

However  great  a  man's  self-control  may  be,  it  has 
its  limits.  M.  Gandelu  had  restrained  himself  even 
while  he  told  his  son  of  his  villainous  conduct;  but 
these  revolting  threats  were  more  than  he  could  en- 


FATHER  AND   SON  301 

dure,  and  Andre  seeing  this,  stepped  forward,  opened 
the  door,  and  thrust  the  foolish  youth  into  the  cor- 
ridor. 

"What  have  you  done?"  cried  the  contractor;  "do 
you  not  see  that  he  will  go  and  warn  that  vile  creature, 
and  that  she  will  escape  from  justice  ?  " 

And  as  Andre,  fearing  he  knew  not  what,  tried  to 
restrain  him,  the  old  man,  exerting  all  his  muscular 
strength,  thrust  him  on  one  side  with  perfect  ease,  and 
rushed  from  the  room,  calling  loudly  to  his  ser- 
vants. 

Andre  was  horrified  at  the  scene  at  which,  in  spite 
of  himself,  he  had  been  compelled  to  assist  as  a  wit- 
ness. He  was  not  a  fool,  and  had  lived  too  much  in  the 
world  of  art  not  to  have  witnessed  many  strange  scenes 
and  met  with  many  dissolute  characters ;  but,  as  a  rule, 
the  follies  of  the  world  had  amused  rather  than  dis- 
gusted him.  But  this  display  of  want  of  feeling  on  the 
part  of  a  son  toward  a  father  absolutely  chilled  his 
blood.  In  a  few  minutes  M.  Gandelu  appeared  with  a 
calmer  expression  upon  his  face. 

"I  will  tell  you  how  matters  now  stand,"  said  he, 
in  a  voice  that  quivered  in  spite  of  his  efforts.  "  My 
son  is  locked  up  in  his  room,  and  a  trustworthy  servant 
whom  he  cannot  corrupt  has  mounted  guard  over  him." 

"Do  you  not  fear,  sir,  that  in  his  excitement  and 
anger  he  may ?" 

The  contractor  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  You  do  not  know  him,"  answered  he,  "  if  you  im- 
agine that  he  resembles  me  in  any  way.  What  do  you 
think  that  he  is  doing  now?  Lying  on  his  bed,  face 
downward,  yelling  for  his  Zora.  Zora,  indeed !  As  if 
that  was  a  name  fit  for  a  Christian.  How  is  it  that 
these  creatures  are  enabled  to  drug  our  boys  and  lead 


302  CAUGHT   IN   THE    NET 

them  anywhere?  Had  his  mother  not  been  a  saint 
on  earth,  I  should  scarcely  believe  that  he  was  my 
son." 

The  contractor  sank  into  a  chair  and  buried  his  face 
in  his  hands. 

"  You  are  in  pain,  sir  ?  "  said  Andre. 

"  Yes ;  my  heart  is  deeply  wounded.  Up  to  this  time 
I  have  only  felt  as  a  father ;  now  I  feel  as  a  man.  To- 
morrow I  send  for  my  family  and  consult  with  them; 
and  I  shall  advertise  that  for  the  future  I  will  not  be 
responsible  for  any  debts  that  my  son  may  contract. 
He  shall  not  have  a  penny,  and  will  soon  learn  how 
society  treats  a  man  with  empty  pockets.  As  to  the 
girl,  she  will  disappear  in  double  quick  time.  I  have 
thoroughly  weighed  the  consequences  of  sending  this 
girl  to  gaol,  and  they  are  very  terrible.  My  son  will 
do  as  he  has  threatened,  I  am  sure  of  that;  and  I  can 
picture  him  tied  to  that  infamous  creature  for  life, 
looking  into  her  face,  and  telling  her  that  he  adores 
her,  and  glorying  in  his  dishonor,  which  will  be  re- 
peated by  every  Parisian  newspaper." 

"But  is  there  no  other  way  of  proceeding?"  asked 
Andre. 

u  No,  none  whatever.  If  all  modern  fathers  had  my 
courage,  we  should  not  have  so  many  profligate  sons. 
It  is  impossible  that  this  conferring  with  the  doctor  and 
the  money-lender  could  have  originated  in  my  son's 
weak  brain.  He  is  a  mere  child,  and  some  one  must 
have  put  him  up  to  it" 

The  poor  father  was  already  seeking  for  some  excuse 
for  the  son's  conduct. 

"I  must  not  dwell  on  this  longer,"  continued  Gan- 
delu,  "or  I  shall  get  as  mad  as  I  was  before.  I  will 
look  at  your  plans  another  day.  Now,  let  us  get  out  of 


FATHER   AND    SON  303 

the  house.  Come  and  look  at  the  new  building  in 
the  Champs  Ely  sees." 

The  mansion  in  question  was  situated  at  the  corner 
of  the  Rue  de  Chantilly,  near  the  Avenue  des  Champs 
Elysees,  and  the  frontage  of  it  was  still  marked  by 
scaffolding,  so  that  but  little  of  it  could  be  seen.  A 
dozen  workmen,  engaged  by  Andre,  were  lounging 
about.  They  had  expected  to  see  him  early,  and  were 
surprised  at  his  non-appearance,  as  he  was  usually 
punctuality  itself.  Andre  greeted  them  in  a  friendly 
manner,  but  M.  Gandelu,  though  he  was  always  on 
friendly  terms  with  his  workmen,  passed  by  them  as 
if  he  did  not  even  notice  their  existence.  He  walked 
through  the  different  rooms  and  examined  them  care- 
lessly, without  seeming  to  take  any  interest  in  them, 
for  his  thoughts  were  with  his  son, — his  only  son. 

After  a  short  time  he  turned  to  Andre. 

"  I  cannot  stay  longer,"  said  he ;  "I  am  not  feeling 
well ;  I  will  be  here  to-morrow ; "  and  he  went  away 
with  his  head  bent  down  on  his  chest. 

The  workmen  noticed  his  strange  and  unusual  man- 
ner. 

"  He  does  not  look  very  bright,"  remarked  one  to 
his  comrade.  "Since  his  illness  he  has  not  been  the 
same  man.  I  think  he  must  have  had  some  terrible 
shock." 


304  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 

AN  ARTFUL  TRICK. 

ANDR£  had  removed  his  coat  and  donned  his  blouse, 
the  sleeves  of  which  were  rolled  up  to  his  shoulders. 
"  I  must  get  to  business/'  murmured  he,  "  to  make  up 
for  lost  time."  He  set  to  work  with  great  vigor,  but 
had  hardly  got  into  the  swing,  when  a  lad  came  actively 
up  the  ladder  and  told  him  that  a  gentleman  wished  to 
see  him,  "  and  a  real  swell,  too,"  added  the  boy.  Andre 
was  a  good  deal  put  out  at  being  disturbed,  but  when 
he  reached  the  street  and  saw  that  it  was  M.  de  Breulh- 
Faverlay  who  was  waiting  for  him,  his  ill-humor  dis- 
appeared like  chaff  before  the  wind. 

"Ah,  this  is  really  kind  of  you,"  cried  he;  for  he 
could  never  forget  the  debt  of  gratitude  he  owed  to 
the  gentleman.  "A  thousand  thanks  for  remembering 
me.  Excuse  my  not  shaking  hands,  but  see ; "  and  he 
exhibited  his  palms  all  white  with  plaster.  As  he  did 
so  the  smile  died  away  on  his  lips,  for  he  caught  sight 
of  his  friend's  face. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  exclaimed  he,  anxiously. 
"  Is  Sabine  worse  ?  Has  she  had  a  relapse  ?  " 

De  Breulh  shook  his  head,  but  the  expression  of  his 
face  clearly  said, — 

"  Would  to  heavens  it  were  only  that !  " 

But  the  news  that  Sabine  was  not  worse  had  relieved 
Andre  at  once,  and  he  patiently  waited  for  his  friend 
to  explain. 

"  I  have  seen  her  twice  for  you,"  answered  De 
Breulh ;  "  but  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  you  should 
come  to  a  prompt  decision  on  an  important  affair." 


AN   ARTFUL  TRICK  305 

*  I  am  quite  at  your  service,"  returned  Andre  a  good 
deal  surprised  and  troubled. 

"  Then  come  with  me  at  once.  I  did  not  drive  here, 
but  we  shall  not  be  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in 
reaching  my  house." 

"  I  will  follow  you  almost  immediately.  I  only  ask 
five  minutes'  grace  to  go  up  to  the  scaffold  again." 

"  Have  you  any  orders  to  give  ?  " 

"No,  I  have  none." 

"Why  should  you  go,  then?" 

*  To  make  myself  a  little  more  presentable." 

*  Is  it  an  annoyance  or  inconvenience  for  you  to  go 
out  in  that  dress  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,  I  am  thoroughly  used  to  it ;  but  it  was 
for  your  sake." 

"  If  that  is  all,  come  along/' 

"  But  people  will  stare  at  seeing  you  in  company 
with  a  common  workman." 

"Let  them  stare."  And  drawing  Andre's  arm 
through  his,  M.  de  Breulh  set  off. 

Andre  was  right;  many  persons  did  turn  round  to 
look  at  the  fashionably  dressed  gentleman  walking  arm 
in  arm  with  a  mason  in  his  working  attire,  but  De 
Breulh  took  but  little  heed,  and  to  all  Andre's  ques- 
tions simply  said,  "Wait  till  we  reach  my  house." 

At  length  they  arrived,  without  having  exchanged 
twenty  words,  and  entering  the  library  closed  the  door. 
M.  de  Breulh  did  not  inflict  the  torture  of  suspense 
upon  his  young  friend  a  moment  longer  than  was 
necessary. 

"This  morning,  about  twelve  o'clock,  as  I  was 
crossing  the  Avenue  de  Matignon,  I  saw  Modeste,  who 
had  been  waiting  for  you  more  than  an  hour." 

"  I  could  not  help  it." 


306  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  I  know  that.  As  soon  as  she  saw  me,  she  ran  up 
to  me  at  once.  She  was  terribly  disappointed  at  not 
having  seen  you;  but  knowing  our  intimacy,  she  in- 
trusted me  with  a  letter  for  you  from  Mademoiselle  de 
Mussidan." 

Andre  shuddered;  he  felt  that  the  note  contained 
evil  tidings,  with  which  De  Breulh  was  already  ac- 
quainted. "Give  it  to  me/'  said  he,  and  with  trem- 
bling hands  he  tore  open  the  letter  and  perused  its 
contents. 

"  DEAREST  ANDRE, — 

"I  love  you,  and  shall  ever  continue  to  do  so,  but 
I  have  duties — most  holy  ones — which  I  must  fulfil; 
duties  which  my  name  and  position  demand  of  me, 
even  should  the  act  cost  me  my  life.  We  shall  never 
meet  again  in  this  world,  and  this  letter  is  the  last  one 
you  will  ever  receive  from  me.  Before  long  you  will 
see  the  announcement  of  my  marriage.  Pity  me,  for 
great  as  your  wretchedness  will  be,  it  will  be  as  nothing 
compared  to  mine.  Heaven  have  mercy  upon  us  both ! 
Andre,  try  and  tear  me  out  of  your  heart.  I  have  not 
even  the  right  to  die,  and  oh,  my  darling,  this — this  is 
the  last  word  you  will  ever  receive  from  your  poor 
unhappy  SABINE." 

If  M.  de  Breulh  had  insisted  upon  taking  Andre 
home  with  him  before  he  handed  him  the  letter,  it  was 
because  Modeste  had  given  him  some  inkling  of  its 
contents.  He  feared  that  the  effect  would  be  tre- 
mendous upon  nerves  so  highly  strung  and  sensitive 
as  those  of  Andre.  But  he  need  not  have  been  alarmed 
on  this  point.  As  the  young  painter  mastered  the  con- 
tents of  the  letter  his  features  became  ghastly  pale, 
and  a  shudder  convulsed  every  nerve  and  muscle  of 
his  frame.  With  a  mechanical  gesture  he  extended  the 
paper  to  M.  de  Breulh,  uttering  the  one  word,  "  Read." 


AN   ARTFUL   TRICK  307 

His  friend  obeyed  him,  more  alarmed  by  Andre's 
laconism  than  he  would  have  been  by  some  sudden 
explosion  of  passion. 

"Do  not  lose  heart,"  exclaimed  he. 

But  Andre  interrupted  him.  "  Lose  heart ! "  said 
he ;  "  you  do  not  know  me.  When  Sabine  was  ill,  per- 
haps dying,  far  away  from  me,  I  did  feel  cast  down; 
but  now  that  she  tells  me  that  she  loves  me,  my  feel- 
ings are  of  an  entirely  different  nature." 

M.  de  Breulh  was  about  to  speak,  but  Andre  went 
on. 

"What  is  this  marriage  contract  which  my  poor 
Sabine  announces  to  me,  as  if  it  was  her  death-war- 
rant? Her  parents  must  all  along  have  intended  to 
break  with  you,  but  you  were  beforehand  with  them. 
Can  they  have  received  a  more  advantageous  offer  of 
marriage  already?  It  is  scarcely  likely.  When  she 
confided  the  secret  of  her  life  to  you,  she  certainly 
knew  nothing  of  this.  What  terrible  event  has  hap- 
pened since  then  ?  My  brave  Sabine  would  never  have 
submitted  unless  some  coercion  had  been  used  that  she 
could  not  struggle  against;  she  would  rather  have 
quitted  her  father's  house  for  ever." 

As  Andre  uttered  these  words  De  Breulh's  mind 
was  busy  with  similar  reflections,  for  Modeste  had 
given  him  some  hint  of  the  approaching  marriage,  and 
had  begged  him  to  be  most  careful  how  he  communi- 
cated the  facts  to  Andre. 

"You  must  have  noticed,"  continued  the  young 
painter,  "  the  strange  coincidence  between  Sabine' s  ill- 
ness and  this  note.  You  left  her  happy  and  full  of 
hope,  and  an  hour  afterward  she  falls  senseless,  as 
though  struck  by  lightning;  as  soon  as  she  recovers  a 
little  she  sends  me  this  terrible  letter.  Do  you  remem- 


308  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

ber  that  Madame  de  Bois  Arden  told  us  that  during 
Sabine's  illness  her  father  and  mother  never  left  her 
bedside  ?  Was  not  this  for  fear  lest  some  guilty  secret 
of  theirs  might  escape  her  lips  in  a  crisis  of  delirium?  " 

"Yes,  I  remember  that,  and  I  have  long  had  reason 
to  imagine  that  there  is  some  terrible  family  secret  in 
the  Mussidans'  family,  such  as  we  too  often  find  among 
the  descendants  of  noble  houses." 

"What  can  it  be?" 

"That  I  have  no  means  of  ascertaining,  but  that 
there  is  one  I  am  sure." 

Andre  turned  away  and  paced  rapidly  up  and  down 
the  room.  "  Yes,"  said  he,  suddenly,  "  there  is  a  mys- 
tery; but  you  and  I  will  leave  no  stone  unturned  until 
we  penetrate  it."  He  drew  a  chair  close  to  the  side  of 
his  friend,  who  was  reclining  on  a  couch.  "  Listen," 
said  he,  "and  correct  me  if  you  fancy  that  I  am  not 
right  in  what  I  am  saying.  Do  you  believe  that  the 
most  terrible  necessity  alone  has  compelled  Sabine  to 
write  this  letter?" 

"  Most  certainly." 

"  Both  the  Count  and  Countess  were  willing  to  ac- 
cept you  as  their  son-in-law  ?  " 

"  Exactly  so." 

"  Could  M.  de  Mussidan  have  found  a  more  brilliant 
match  for  his  daughter,  one  who  could  unite  so  many 
advantages  of  experience  and  education  +o  so  enormous 
a  fortune  ?  " 

De  Breulh  could  hardly  repress  a  smile. 

"I  am  not  wishing  to  pay  you  a  compliment,"  said 
Andr6  impatiently.  "  Reply  to  my  question." 

"  Very  well  then,  I  admit  that  according  to  the  opin- 
ion of  the  world,  I  was  a  most  eligible  suitor,  and  that 
M.  de  Mussidan  would  find  it  hard  to  replace  me." 


AN    ARTFUL   TRICK  309 

"Then  tell  me  how  it  comes  about  that  neither  the 
Count  nor  Countess  has  made  any  effort  to  prevent 
this  rupture  ?  " 

Their  pride,  perhaps,  has  been  wounded." 
Not  so,  for  Modeste  tells  us  that  on  the  very  day 
you  sent  the  letter  the  Count  was  going  to  call  on  you 
to  break  off  the  engagement/' 

"  Yes,  that  is  so,  if  we  are  to  believe  Modeste." 

As  if  to  give  more  emphasis  to  his  words,  Andre 
started  to  his  feet.  "  This,"  cried  he,  "  this  man,  who 
has  so  suddenly  appeared  upon  the  scene,  will  marry 
Sabine,  not  only  against  her  own  will,  but  against  that 
of  her  parents,  and  for  what  reason  ?  Who  is  this  man, 
and  what  is  the  mysterious  power  that  he  possesses? 
His  power  is  too  great  to  spring  from  an  honorable 
source.  Sabine  is  sacrificing  herself  to  this  man  for 
some  reason  or  other,  and  he,  like  a  dastardly  cur,  is 
ready  to  take  advantage  of  the  nobleness  of  her  heart." 

"  I  admit  the  correctness  of  your  supposition,"  said 
he ;  "  and  now,  how  do  you  propose  to  act  ?  " 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  as  yet,"  answered  the  young 
man,  with  a  fierce  gleam  in  his  eyes.  "Sabine  asks 
me  to  tear  her  from  my  heart.  I  will  affect  to  do  so 
for  the  time.  Modeste  believes  in  me,  and  will  help  me. 
I  have  patience.  The  villain  who  has  wrecked  my  life 
does  not  know  me,  and  I  will  only  reveal  myself  upon 
the  day  that  I  hold  him  helpless  in  my  hand." 

"Take  care,  Andre,"  urged  De  Breulh;  "a  false 
step  would  ruin  your  hopes  for  ever." 

"I  will  make  none;  as  soon  as  I  have  this  man's 
name,  I  will  insult  him;  there  will  be  a  duel,  and  I 
shall  kill  him — or  he  me." 

"A  duel  will  be  the  height  of  madness,  and  would 
ruin  all  your  hopes  of  marriage  with  Sabine." 


310  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"The  only  thing  that  holds  me  back  is  that  I  do 
not  wish  that  there  should  be  a  corpse  between  Sabine 
and  myself.  Blood  on  a  bridal  dress,  they  say,  brings 
misery;  and  if  this  man  is  what  I  suspect  him  to  be, 
I  should  be  doing  him  too  much  honor  if  I  crossed 
swords  with  him.  No,  I  must  have  a  deeper  ven- 
geance than  this,  for  I  can  never  forget  that  he  nearly 
caused  Sabine's  death." 

He  paused  for  a  few  seconds,  and  once  again  broke 
the  silence  which  reigned  in  the  room. 

"To  abuse  the  power  that  he  must  possess  shows 
what  a  miserable  wretch  he  must  be ;  and  men  do  not 
attain  such  a  height  of  infamy  by  a  single  bound.  The 
course  of  his  life  must  be  full  of  similar  crimes,  grow- 
ing deeper  and  deadlier  as  he  moves  on.  I  will  make 
it  my  business  to  unmask  him  and  to  hold  him  up  to 
the  scorn  and  contempt  of  his  fellow-men." 

"  Yes ;  that  is  the  plan  to  pursue." 

"  And  we  will  do  so,  sir.  Ah !  heaven  help  me !  I 
say  '  we,'  for  I  have  relied  on  you.  The  generous 
offer  that  you  made  to  me  I  refused,  and  I  was  in  the 
right  in  doing  so ;  but  I  should  now  be  a  mere  madman 
if  I  did  not  entreat  you  to  grant  me  your  aid  and 
advice.  We  have  both  known  hardship  and  are  capable 
of  going  without  food  or  sleep,  if  necessity  requires  it 
of  us.  We  have  both  graduated  in  the  school  of  pov- 
erty and  sorrow.  We  can  keep  our  plans  to  ourselves 
and  act." 

Andre  paused,  as  if  waiting  for  a  reply,  but  his 
friend  remained  silent. 

"My  plan  is  most  simple,"  resumed  the  young 
painter.  "As  soon  as  we  know  the  fellow's  name  we 
shall  be  able  to  act.  He  will  never  suspect  us,  and  we 
can  follow  him  like  his  very  shadow.  There  are  pro- 


AN   ARTFUL   TRICK  311 

f essional  detectives  who,  for  a  comparatively  small  sum, 
will  lay  bare  a  man's  entire  life.  Are  we  not  as  clever 
as  this  fine  fellow  ?  We  can  work  well  together  in  our 
different  circles ;  you,  in  the  world  of  fashion,  can  pick 
up  intelligence  that  I  could  not  hope  to  gain;  while  I, 
from  my  lowly  position,  will  study  the  hidden  side  of 
his  life,  for  I  can  talk  to  the  servants  lounging  at  the 
front  doors  or  the  grooms  at  the  public-houses  without 
suspicion." 

M.  de  Breulh  was  delighted  at  finding  that  he  could 
have  some  occupation  which  would  fill  up  the  dreary 
monotony  of  his  life. 

"  I  am  yours !  "  cried  he ;  "  and  will  work  with  you 
heart  and  soul." 

Before  the  artist  could  reply  a  loud  blow  was  struck 
upon  the  library  door,  and  a  woman's  voice  ex- 
claimed,— 

"  Let  me  in,  Gontran,  at  once." 

"  It  is  Madame  de  Bois  Arden,"  remarked  De 
Breulh,  drawing  the  bolt  back;  and  the  Viscountess 
rushed  hastily  into  the  room  and  threw  herself  into  a 
low  chair. 

Her  beautiful  face  was  bedewed  with  tears,  and  she 
was  in  a  terrible  state  of  excitement. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Clotilde?"  asked  De  Breulh 
kindly,  as  he  took  her  hand. 

"  Something  terrible,"  answered  she  with  a  sob ;  "  but 
you  may  be  able  to  help  me.  Can  you  lend  me  twenty 
thousand  francs  ?  " 

De  Breulh  smiled;  a  heavy  weight  had  been  lifted 
from  his  heart. 

"  If  that  is  all  you  require,  do  not  shed  any  more 
tears." 

"But  I  want  them  at  once." 


312  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  Can  you  give  me  half  an  hour  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  lose  no  time." 

De  Breulh  drew  a  check  and  despatched  his  valet 
for  the  money. 

"  A  thousand  thanks !  "  said  the  Viscountess ;  "  but 
money  is  not  all  that  I  require,  I  want  your  advice." 

Andre  was  about  to  leave  the  cousins  together,  but 
the  lady  stopped  him. 

"Pray  remain,  M.  Andre,"  said  she;  "you  are  not 
at  all  in  the  way;  besides,  I  shall  have  to  speak  of 
some  one  in  whom  you  take  a  very  deep  interest — of 
Mademoiselle  de  Mussidan,  in  short. 

"  I  never  knew  such  a  strange  occurrence,"  continued 
the  Viscountess,  recovering  her  spirits  rapidly,  "as 
that  to  which,  my  dear  Gontran,  you  owe  my  visit. 
Well,  I  was  just  going  up  to  dress,  for  I  had  been  de- 
tained by  visitor  after  visitor,  when  at  two  o'clock 
another  came  before  I  could  give  my  order,  *  Not  at 
home/  This  was  the  Marquis  de  Croisenois,  the 
brother  of  the  man  who  twenty  years  ago  disappeared 
in  so  mysterious  a  manner.  I  hardly  knew  him  at  all, 
though  of  course  we  have  met  in  society,  and  he  bows 
to  me  in  the  Bois,  but  that  is  all." 

"And  yet  he  called  on  you  to-day?"  remarked  De 
Breulh. 

"  Don't  interrupt  me,"  said  the  Viscountess.  "  Yes, 
he  called,  and  that  is  enough.  He  is  good-looking, 
faultlessly  dressed,  and  talks  well.  He  brought  a 
letter  from  an  old  friend  of  my  grandmother's,  the 
Marchioness  d'Arlanges.  She  is  a  dear  old  thing,  she 
uses  awful  language,  and  some  of  her  stories  are  quite 

too you  know  what  I  mean.  In  the  letter  the  old 

lady  said  that  the  Marquis  was  one  of  her  friends,  and 
begged  me  for  her  sake  to  do  him  the  service  he  re- 


AN   ARTFUL  TRICK  313 

quired.  Of  course  I  asked  him  to  be  seated,  and  as- 
sured him  that  I  would  do  anything  that  lay  in  my 
power.  Then  he  began  talking  about  M.  de  Clinchain,, 
and  told  me  a  funny  story  about  that  eccentric  man 
and  a  little  actress,  when  I  heard  a  great  noise  in  the 
anteroom.  I  was  about  to  ring  and  inquire  the  cause, 
when  the  door  flew  open  and  in  came  Van  Klopen,  the 
ladies'  tailor,  with  a  very  inflamed  countenance.  I 
thought  that  he  had  come  in  a  hurry  because  he  had 
hit  on  something  extremely  fetching  and  wished  me 
to  be  the  first  to  see  it.  But  do  you  know  what  the 
impudent  fellow  wanted  ?  " 

A  smile  shone  in  De  Breulh's  eyes,  as  he  answered^ — 

"Money,  perhaps !" 

"  You  are  right,"  returned  the  Viscountess,  gravely ; 
"  he  brought  my  bill  into  my  very  drawing-room,  and 
handed  it  in  before  a  stranger.  I  never  thought  that 
a  man  who  supplies  the  most  aristocratic  portion  of  so- 
ciety could  have  been  guilty  of  such  a  piece  of  imperti- 
nence. I  ordered  him  to  leave  the  room,  taking  it  for 
granted  that  he  would  do  so  with  an  apology,  but  I 
was  wrong.  He  flew  into  a  rage  and  threatened  me, 
and  swore  that  if  I  did  not  settle  the  bill  on  the  spot, 
he  would  go  to  my  husband.  The  bill  was  nearly  twenty 
thousand  francs;  imagine  my  horror!  I  was  so  thun- 
derstruck at  the  amount  that  I  absolutely  entreated  him 
to  give  me  time.  But  my  humility  added  to  his  annoy- 
ance, and  taking  a  seat  in  an  armchair,  he  declared  that 
he  would  not  move  from  it  until  he  received  his  money, 
or  had  seen  my  husband." 

"What  was  Croisenois  doing  all  this  time?"  asked 
M.  de  Breulh. 

"  He  did  nothing  at  first,  but  at  this  last  piece  of 
audacity  he  took  out  his  pocketbook,  and  throwing  it 


314  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

in  Van  Klopen's  face,  said :  '  Pay  yourself,  you  in- 
solent scoundrel,  and  get  out  of  this/  " 

"And  the  tailor  went  off?" 

"  No.  '  I  must  give  you  a  receipt,'  said  he,  and  tak- 
ing writing  materials  from  his  pocket,  he  wrote  at  the 
foot  of  the  bill,  *  Received  from  the  Marquis  de  Croise- 
nois, on  account  of  money  owing  by  the  Viscountess  de 
Bois  Arden,  the  sum  of  twenty  thousand  francs.' " 

"  Well,"  said  De  Breulh,  looking  very  grave,  "  and 
after  Van  Klopen's  departure,  I  suppose  Croisenois 
remained  to  ask  the  favor  regarding  which  he  had 
called?" 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  answered  his  cousin.  "  I  had 
great  difficulty  in  making  him  speak;  but  at  last  he 
confessed  that  he  was  deeply  in  love  with  Mademoiselle 
de  Mussidan,  and  entreated  me  to  present  him  to  her 
parents  and  exert  all  my  influence  in  his  behalf." 

Both  the  young  men  started. 

"  That  is  the  man !  "  cried  they. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  the  Viscountess,  look- 
ing from  one  to  the  other. 

"That  yon  Marquis  de  Croisenois  is  a  despicable 
scoundrel,  who  has  imposed  upon  the  Marchioness 
d'Arlanges.  Just  you  listen  to  our  reasons  for  coming 
to  this  conclusion."  And  with  the  most  perfect  clear- 
ness De  Breulh  laid  the  whole  state  of  the  case  before 
the  Viscountess. 

The  lady  listened  attentively,  and  then  said, — 

"Your  premises  are  wrong;  just  let  me  say  a  word 
on  the  matter.  You  say  that  there  is  some  man  who, 
by  means  of  the  influence  which  he  exercises  over  the 
Count  and  Countess,  can  coerce  them  into  granting  him 
Sabine's  hand.  But,  my  dear  Gontran,  an  utter 
stranger  to  the  family  could  not  exercise  this  power. 


AN   ARTFUL  TRICK  315 

Now  M.  de  Croisenois  has  never  entered  the  doors  of 
the  house,  and  came  to  me  to  ask  for  an  introduction." 

The  justness  of  this  remark  silenced  De  Breulh,  but 
Andre  took  another  view  of  the  matter. 

"  This  seems  all  right  at  a  first  glance,  but  still,  after 
the  extraordinary  scene  that  the  Viscountess  has  de- 
scribed, I  should  like  to  ask  a  few  questions.  Was  not 
Van  Klopen's  behavior  very  unexpected  ?  " 

"  It  was  brutal  and  infamous." 

"  Are  you  not  one  of  his  best  customers  ?  " 

"  I  am,  and  I  have  spent  an  enormous  sum  with 
him." 

"But  Van  Klopen  is  nasty  sometimes;  did  he  not 
sue  Mademoiselle  de  Riversac  ?  "  asked  De  Breulh. 

"  But  he  did  not,  I  expect,  force  his  way  into  her 
drawing-room  and  behave  outrageously  before  a  per- 
fect stranger.  Do  you  know  M.  de  Croisenois  ?  "  re- 
turned Andre. 

"  Very  slightly ;  he  is  of  good  family,  and  his  brother 
George  was  much  esteemed  by  all  who  knew  him." 

"  Has  he  plenty  of  money  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  think  so,  but  in  time  he  will  inherit  a 
large  fortune;  very  likely  he  is  over  head  and  ears  in 
debt." 

"And  yet  he  had  twenty  thousand  francs  in  his 
pocketbook;  is  not  that  rather  a  large  sum  to  carry 
when  you  are  simply  making  a  morning  call?  and  it 
is  curious,  too,  that  it  should  have  been  the  exact  sum 
wanted.  Then  there  is  another  point;  the  pocketbook 
was  hurled  into  Van  Klopen's  face.  Did  he  submit 
without  a  word  to  such  treatment  ?  " 

"He  certainly  said  nothing,"  replied  Madame  de 
Bois  Arden. 

"  One  question  more,  if  you  please.    Did  Van  Klopen 


316  CAUGHT   IN  THE  NET 

open  the  book  and  count  the  notes  before  he  gave  the 
receipt?" 

The  Viscountess  thought  for  a  moment. 

"I  was  a  good  deal  excited,"  said  she  at  length, 
but  I  am  almost  sure  that  I  saw  no  notes  in  Van 
Klopen's  hands." 

Andre's  face  grew  radiant. 

"Good,  very  good;  he  was  told  to  pay  himself,  and 
yet  he  never  looked  to  see  if  the  money  was  there,  but 
gave  a  receipt  at  once.  Of  course,  as  Van  Klopen  kept 
the  pocketbook,  the  Marquis  could  have  had  nothing 
in  it  besides  the  exact  sum  that  was  required." 

"  It  does  seem  odd,"  muttered  De  Breulh. 

"  But,"  said  Andre,  "  your  bill  was  not  exactly 
twenty  thousand  francs,  was  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  the  Viscountess.  "  I  ought  to 
have  had  change  to  the  amount  of  a  hundred  or  a 
hundred  and  twenty  francs,  but  I  suppose  he  was  too 
much  excited  to  give  it  me." 

"But  for  all  that  he  could  remember  that  he  had 
writing  materials  with  him,  and  give  you  a  receipt  ?  " 

The  Viscountess  was  utterly  bewildered. 

"And,"  continued  Andre,  "how  was  it  that  Van 
Klopen  knew  De  Croisenois'  name?  And  now,  lastly, 
where  is  the  receipt  ?  " 

Madame  de  Bois  Arden  turned  very  pale  and  trem- 
bled violently. 

"Ah,"  said  she,  "I  felt  sure  that  something  was 
going  to  happen,  and  it  was  on  this  very  point  that  I 
wanted  your  advice.  Well,  I  have  not  got  this  receipt. 
M.  de  Croisenois  crumpled  it  up  in  his  hand  and  threw 
it  on  the  table.  After  a  while,  howerer,  he  took  it  up 
and  put  it  in  his  pocket." 

"It  is  all  perfectly  clear,"  said  Andre  in  jubilant 


AN   ARTFUL  TRICK  317 

tones;  "M.  de  Croisenois  had  need  of  your  aid,  he 
saw  that  he  could  not  easily  obtain  it,  and  so  sought 
to  bind  you  by  the  means  of  a  loan  made  to  you  at  a 
time  of'  great  need." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  De  Breulh. 

The  Viscountess*  giddy  mode  of  action  had  brought 
her  into  many  scrapes,  but  never  into  so  terrible  a 
one  as  this. 

"  Great  heavens ! "  cried  she,  "  what  do  you  think 
that  M.  de  Croisenois  will  do  with  this  receipt?" 

«  He  will  do  nothing,"  answered  M.  de  Breulh,  "  if 
you  do  everything  to  advance  his  suit;  but  pause 
for  an  instant,  and  he  will  show  the  hand  of  steel  which 
has  up  to  now  been  covered  by  the  velvet  glove." 

"  I  am  not  alarmed  at  a  new  slander  ?  "  returned  the 
Viscountess. 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  answered  De  Breulh.  "  You  know 
very  well  that  in  these  days  of  lavish  expenditure  and 
unbridled  luxury  there  are  many  women  in  society  who 
are  so  basely  vile  that  they  ruin  their  lovers  with  as 
little  compunction  as  their  frailer  sisters.  To-morrow 
even  De  Croisenois  may  say  at  the  club,  '  On  my  word 
that  little  Bois  Arden  costs  me  a  tremendous  lot/  and 
hands  about  this  receipt  for  twenty  thousand  francs. 
What  do  you  imagine  that  people  will  think  then  ?  " 

"  The  world  knows  me  too  well  to  think  so  ill  of 
me." 

"  No,  no,  Clotilde,  there  is  no  charity  in  society ;  they 
will  simply  say  that  you  are  his  mistress,  and  finding 
that  the  allowance  from  your  husband  is  not  enough 
for  your  needs,  you  are  ruining  your  lover.  There  will 
be  a  significant  laugh  among  the  members,  and  in  time, 
a  very  short  time,  the  scandal  in  a  highly  sensational 
form  will  come  to  the  ears  of  your  husband." 


318  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

The  Viscountess  wrung  her  hands. 

"  It  is  too  horrible/'  wailed  she.  "  And  do  you  know 
that  Bois  Arden  would  put  the  worst  construction  on 
the  whole  affair,  for  he  declares  that  a  woman  will 
sacrifice  anything  in  order  to  outshine  her  sex  in  dress. 
Ah,  I  will  never  run  up  another  bill  anywhere;  tell 
me,  Gontran,  what  I  had  better  do.  Can  you  not  get 
the  receipt  from  De  Croisenois  ?  " 

M.  de  Breulh  paused  for  a  moment  and  then  replied, 
"  Of  course  I  could  do  so,  but  such  a  step  would  be 
very  damaging  to  your  reputation.  I  have  no 
proof;  and  if  I  went  to  him,  he  would  deny  everything 
of  course,  and  it  would  make  him  your  enemy  for 
life." 

"Besides,"  added  Andre,  "you  would  put  him  on 
his  guard,  and  he  would  escape  us." 

The  unhappy  woman  glanced  from  one  to  the  other 
in  utter  despair. 

"Then  I  am  lost,"  she  exclaimed.  "Am  I  to  re- 
main for  the  rest  of  my  days  in  this  villain's  power?" 

"  Not  so,"  returned  Andre,  "  for  I  hope  soon  to  put 
it  out  of  M.  de  Croisenois'  power  to  injure  any  one. 
What  did  he  say  when  he  asked  you  to  introduce  him 
to  the  Mussidans  ?  " 

"  Nothing  pointed." 

"  Then,  madame,  do  not  disturb  yourself  to-night. 
So  long  as  he  hopes  you  will  be  useful,  so  long  he  will 
stay  his  hand.  Do  as  he  wishes;  never  allude  to  the 
receipt;  introduce  him  and  speak  well  of  him,  while 
I,  aided  by  M.  de  Breulh,  will  do  my  utmost  to  un- 
mask this  scoundrel ;  and  as  long  as  he  believes  himself 
to  be  in  perfect  security,  our  task  will  be  an  easy 
one." 

Just  then  the  servant  returned  from  the  bank,  and 


AN   ARTFUL   TRICK  319 

as  soon  as  the  man  had  left  the  room  De  Breulh  took 
the  notes  and  placed  them  in  his  cousin's  hand. 

"  Here  is  the  money  for  De  Croisenois,"  said  he. 
"  Take  my  advice,  and  give  it  to  him  this  evening  with 
a  polite  letter  of  thanks." 

"A  thousand  thanks,  Gontran;  I  will  act  as  you 
advise." 

"  Remember  you  must  not  allude  in  your  letter  to 
his  introduction  to  the  Mussidans.  What  do  you  think, 
Andre?" 

"  I  think  a  receipt  for  the  money  would  be  a  great 
thing/'  answered  he. 

"  But  such  a  demand  would  arouse  his  suspicions." 

"  I  think  not,  madame,  and  I  see  a  way  of  doing  it ; 
have  you  a  maid  upon  whom  you  could  rely  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  have  one." 

"  Good,  then  give  the  girl  a  letter  and  the  notes 
done  up  in  a  separate  parcel,  and  tell  her  exactly  what 
she  is  to  do.  When  she  sees  the  Marquis,  let  her  pre- 
tend to  be  alarmed  at  the  great  responsibility  that  she  is 
incurring  in  carrying  this  large  sum,  and  insist  upon  a 
receipt  for  her  own  protection." 

"  There  is  sound  sense  in  that,"  said  De  Breulh. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  the  Viscountess,  "  Josephine  will 
do — as  sharp  a  girl  as  you  could  find  in  a  day's  jour- 
ney— and  will  manage  the  thing  admirably.  Trust  to 
me,"  she  continued,  as  a  smile  of  hope  spread  over 
her  face ;  "  I  will  keep  De  Croisenois  in  a  good  humor ; 
he  will  confide  in  me,  and  I  will  tell  you  everything. 
But,  oh  dear !  what  shall  I  do  without  Van  Klopen  ? 
Why,  there  is  not  another  man  in  Paris  fit  to  stand 
in  his  shoes." 

With  these  words  the  Viscountess  rose  to  leave. 

"  I  am  completely  worn  out,"  remarked  she ;  "  and 


320  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

I  have  a  dinner-party  to-night.  Good-bye  then,  until 
we  meet  again ; "  and  with  her  spirits  evidently  as 
joyous  as  ever,  she  tripped  into  her  carriage. 

"  Now,"  said  Andre,  as  soon  as  they  were  once 
more  alone,  "  we  are  on  the  track  of  De  Croisenois. 
He  evidently  holds  Madame  de  Mussidan  as  he  holds 
Madame  de  Bois  Arden.  His  is  a  really  honorable 
mode  of  action;  he  surprises  a  secret,  and  then  turns 
extortioner." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A  NEW  SKIN. 

DR.  HORTEBISE'S  private  arrangements  were  sadly  up- 
set by  his  being  compelled  to  accede  to  the  desire  of 
Tantaine  and  Mascarin,  and  in  granting  hospitality  to 
Paul  Violaine;  and  in  spite  of  the  brilliant  visions  of 
the  future,  he  often  devoutly  wished  that  Mascarin  and 
his  young  friend  were  at  the  other  side  of  the  world ;  but 
for  all  that  he  never  thought  of  attempting  to  evade 
the  order  he  had  received.  He  therefore  set  himself 
steadily  to  his  task,  endeavoring  to  form  Paul's  mind, 
blunt  his  conscience,  and  prepare  him  for  the  inevitable 
part  that  he  would  soon  have  to  play. 

Paul  found  in  him  a  most  affable  companion,  pleas- 
ant, witty,  and  gifted  with  great  conversational  pow- 
ers. Five  days  were  thus  spent  breakfasting  at  well- 
known  restaurants,  driving  in  the  Bois,  and  dining  at 
clubs  of  which  the  doctor  was  a  member,  while  the  eve- 
nings were  passed  at  the  banker's.  The  doctor  played 
cards  with  his  host,  while  Paul  and  Flavia  conversed 
together  in  low  whispers,  or  else  hung  over  the  piano 


A  NEW   SKIN  321 

together.  But  every  kind  of  agreeable  existence  comes 
to  an  end,  and  one  day  Daddy  Tantaine  entered  the 
room,  his  face  radiant  with  delight. 

"  I  have  secured  you  the  sweetest  little  nest  in  the 
world,"  cried  he  merrily.  "It  is  not  so  fine  as  this, 
but  more  in  accordance  with  your  position." 

"Where  is  it?"  asked  Paul. 

Tantaine  waited.  "  You  won't  wear  out  much  shoe 
leather,"  said  he,  "in  walking  to  a  certain  banker's, 
for  your  lodgings  are  close  to  his  house." 

That  Tantaine  had  a  splendid  talent  for  arrange- 
ment Paul  realized  as  soon  as  he  entered  his  new  place 
of  abode,  which  was  in  the  Rue  Montmartre,  and  con- 
sisted of  some  neat,  quiet  rooms,  just  such  as  an  artist 
who  had  conquered  his  first  difficulties  would  inhabit. 
The  apartments  were  on  the  third  floor,  and  comprised 
a  tiny  entrance  hall,  sitting-room,  bed  and  dressing 
room.  A  piano  stood  near  the  window  in  the  sitting- 
room.  The  furniture  and  curtains  were  tasteful  and 
in  good  order,  but  nothing  was  new.  One  thing  sur- 
prised Paul  very  much ;  he  had  been  told  that  the  apart- 
ments had  been  taken  and  furnished  three  days  ago, 
and  yet  it  seemed  as  if  they  had  been  inhabited  for 
years,  and  that  the  owner  had  merely  stepped  out  a 
few  minutes  before.  The  unmade  bed,  and  the  half- 
burnt  candles  in  the  sleeping-room  added  to  this  im- 
pression, while  on  the  rug  lay  a  pair  of  worn  slippers. 
The  fire  had  not  gone  out  entirely,  and  a  half-smoked 
cigar  lay  on  the  mantelpiece. 

On  the  table  in  the  sitting-room  was  a  sheet  of 
music  paper,  with  a  few  bars  jotted  down  upon  it. 
Paul  felt  so  convinced  that  he  was  in  another  person's 
rooms,  that  he  could  not  help  exclaiming,  "  But  surely 
some  one  has  been  living  in  these  chambers." 


322  CAUGHT    IN    THE   NET 

"We  are  in  your  own  home,  my  dear  boy,"  said 
Tantaine. 

"But  you  took  over  everything,  I  suppose,  and  the 
original  proprietor  simply  walked  out?" 

Tantaine  smiled,  as  though  an  unequivocal  compli- 
ment had  been  paid  him. 

"Why,  do  you  not  know  your  own  home?"  asked 
he;  "you  have  been  living  here  for  the  last  twelve 
months." 

"  I  can't  understand  you,"  answered  Paul,  opening 
his  eyes  in  astonishment;  "you  must  be  jesting." 

"  I  am  entirely  in  earnest ;  for  more  than  a  year  you 
havg  been  established  here.  If  you  want  a  proof  of  the 
correctness  of  my  assertion,  call  up  the  porter."  He 
ran  to  the  head  of  the  staircase  and  called  out,  "  Come 
up,  Mother  Brigaut." 

In  a  few  moments  a  stout  old  woman  came  panting 
into  the  room. 

"  And  how  are  you,  Mother  Brigaut  ?  "  said  Tantaine 
gayly.  "  I  have  a  word  or  two  to  say  to  you.  You 
know  that  gentleman,  do  you  not  ?  " 

"  What  a  question  ?  as  if  I  did  not  know  one  of  the 
gentlemen  lodging  here?" 

"What  is  his  name?" 

"  M.  Paul." 

"  What,  plain  M.  Paul,  and  nothing  else  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  it  is  not  his  fault  if  he  did  not  know  his 
father  or  mother." 

"What  does  he  do?" 

"He  is  a  musician;  he  gives  lessons  on  the  piano,, 
and  composes  music." 

"  Does  he  do  a  good  business  ?  " 

"I  can't  say,  sir,  but  I  should  guess  about  two  or 
three  hundred  francs  a  month;  and  he  makes  that  do,, 


A   NEW   SKIN  323 

for  he  is  economical  and  quiet,  and  as  modest  as  a 
young  girl." 

Tantaine's  face  shone  all  over  with  satisfaction. 

"  You  must  have  known  M.  Paul  for  some  time,  as 
you  seem  so  thoroughly  acquainted  with  his  habits  ?  " 
said  he. 

"  Well,  I  ought  to,  for  he  has  been  here  nearly  fifteen 
months,  and  all  that  time  I  have  looked  after  his  room." 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  lived  before  he  came  here  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  do,  for  I  went  to  inquire  about  him  in 
the  Rue  Jacob.  The  people  there  were  quite  cut  up  at 
his  leaving,  but  you  see  this  was  more  handy  for  the 
music  publisher  in  the  Rue  Richelieu,  for  whom  he 
works." 

"  Good,  Mother  Brigaut ;  that  will  do ;  you  can  leave 
us  now." 

As  Paul  listened  to  this  brief  conversation,  he  won- 
dered if  he  was  awake  or  asleep.  Tantaine  stood  at  the 
door  and  watched  the  woman  down  stairs;  then  he 
closed  it  carefully,  and  coming  up  to  Paul,  said, — 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  all  this?" 

At  first  Paul  was  so  astounded  that  he  could  hardly 
find  words  in  which  to  express  himself;  but  he  remem- 
bered the  words  that  Dr.  Hortebise  had  so  often  dinned 
into  his  ears  during  the  last  five  days, — 

"  Let  nothing  astonish  you." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  he  at  last,  "  that  you  had  taught 
the  old  woman  her  lesson  beforehand." 

"  Merciful  powers !  "  exclaimed  Tantaine  in  tones  of 
extreme  disgust.  "  If  these  are  all  the  ideas  you  have 
gained  from  what  you  have  heard,  our  task  will  not 
be  by  any  means  an  easy  one." 

Paul  was  wounded  by  Tantaine's  contemptuous  man- 
ner. 


324  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  I  understand  well  enough,  sir/'  answered  he  sulk- 
ily, "that  this  is  merely  a  prologue  to  a  romantic  drama/' 

"  You  are  right,  my  lad/'  cried  he  in  a  more  satis- 
fied voice;  "and  it  is  one  that  is  quite  indispensable. 
The  plot  of  the  drama  will  be  revealed  to  you  later  on, 
and  also  the  reward  you  will  receive  if  you  play  your 
part  well." 

"  But  why  cannot  you  tell  me  everything  now  ?  n 

Tantaine  shook  his  head. 

"  Have  patience,  you  rash  boy !  "  said  he.  "  Rome 
was  not  built  in  a  day.  Be  guided  by  me,  and  follow 
blindly  the  orders  of  those  interested  in  you.  This  is 
your  first  lesson;  think  it  over  seriously." 

"  My  first  lesson !    What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Call  it  a  rehearsal  if  you  like.  All  that  the  good 
woman  told  you,"  continued  Tantaine,  "  you  must  look 
upon  as  true;  nay,  it  is  true,  and  when  you  believe  this 
thoroughly,  you  are  quite  prepared  for  the  fray,  but 
until  then  you  must  remain  quiescent.  Remember  this, 
you  cannot  impress  others  unless  you  firmly  believe 
yourself.  The  greatest  impostors  of  all  ages  have 
ever  been  their  own  dupes." 

At  the  word  impostor,  Paul  seemed  about  to  speak, 
but  a  wave  of  Tantaine's  hand  silenced  him. 

"You  must  cast  aside  your  old  skin,  and  enter  that 
of  another.  Paul  Violaine,  the  natural  son  of  a  woman 
who  kept  a  small  drapery  shop  at  Poitiers,  Paul  Vio- 
laine,  the  youthful  lover  of  Rose,  no  longer  exists.  He 
died  of  cold  and  hunger  in  a  garret  in  the  Hotel  de 
Perou,  as  M.  de  Loupins  will  testify  when  necessary." 

The  tone  in  which  Tantaine  spoke  showed  his  in- 
tense earnestness,  and  with  emphatic  gestures  he  drove 
each  successive  idea  into  Paul's  brain. 

"You  will  rid  yourself  of  your  former  recollections 


A   NEW   SKIN  325 

as  you  do  of  an  old  coat,  which  you  throw  aside,  and 
forget  the  very  existence  of.  And  not  only  that,  but 
you  must  lose  your  memory,  and  that  so  entirely,  that 
if  any  one  in  the  street  calls  out  Violaine,  you  will 
never  even  dream  of  turning  round." 

Paul's  brain  seemed  to  tremble  beneath  the  crime  that 
his  companion  was  teaching  him. 

"  Who  am  I  then  ?  "  asked  he. 

A  sardonic  smile  crossed  Tantaine's  face. 

"  You  are  just  what  the  portress  told  you,  Paul,  and 
nothing  more.  Your  first  recollections  are  of  a  Found- 
ling Hospital,  and  you  never  knew  your  parents.  You 
have  lived  here  fifteen  months,  and  before  that  you  re- 
sided in  the  Rue  Jacob.  The  portress  knows  no  more ; 
but  if  you  will  come  with  me  to  the  Rue  Jacob,  the 
people  there  can  tell  you  more  about  your  life  when 
you  were  a  lodger  in  the  house.  Perhaps,  if  you  are 
careful,  we  may  take  you  back  to  your  more  childish 
days,  and  even  find  you  a  father." 

"  But,"  said  Paul,  "  I  might  be  questioned  regarding 
my  past  life:  what  then?  M.  Rigal  or  Mademoiselle 
Flavia  might  interrogate  me  at  any  moment  ?  " 

"  I  see ;  but  do  not  disquiet  yourself.  You  will  be 
furnished  with  all  necessary  papers,  so  that  you  can 
account  for  all  your  life  during  the  twenty-five  years 
you  spent  in  this  world." 

"  Then  I  presume  that  the  person  into  whose  shoes 
I  have  crept  was  a  composer  and  a  musician  like 
myself?" 

Again  Tantaine's  patience  gave  way,  and  it  was  with 
an  oath  that  he  exclaimed, — 

"Are  you  acting  the  part  of  a  fool,  or  are  you  one 
in  reality?  No  one  has  ever  been  here  except  you. 
Did  you  not  hear  what  the  old  woman  said?  She  told 


326  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

you  that  you  were  a  musician,  a  self-made  one,  and 
while  waiting  until  your  talents  are  appreciated,  you 
give  lessons  in  music." 

"  And  to  whom  do  I  give  them  ?  " 

Tantaine  took  three  visiting  cards  from  a  china  or- 
nament on  the  mantelshelf. 

"  Here  are  three  pupils  of  yours/'  said  he,  "  who 
can  pay  you  one  hundred  francs  per  month  for  two 
lessons  a  week,  and  two  of  them  will  assure  you  that 
you  have  taught  them  for  some  time.  The  third, 
Madame  Grandorge,  a  widow,  will  vow  that  she  owes 
all  her  success,  which  is  very  great,  to  your  lessons. 
You  will  go  and  give  these  pupils  their  lessons  at  the 
hours  noted  on  their  cards,  and  you  will  be  received 
as  if  you  had  often  been  to  the  house  before;  and  re- 
member to  be  perfectly  at  your  ease." 

"  I  will  do  my  best  to  follow  your  instructions." 

"  One  last  piece  of  information.  In  addition  to  your 
lessons,  you  are  in  the  habit  of  copying  for  certain 
wealthy  amateurs  the  fragments  of  old  and  almost 
obsolete  operas,  and  on  the  piano  lies  the  work  that  you 
are  engaged  on  for  the  Marquis  de  Croisenois,  a  charm- 
ing composition  by  Valserra.  You  see,"  continued 
Tantaine,  taking  Paul  by  the  arm,  and  showing  him 
round  the  room,  "  that  nothing  has  been  forgotten,  and 
that  you  might  have  lived  here  for  years  past.  You 
have  always  been  a  steady  young  man,  and  have  saved 
up  a  little  money.  In  this  drawer  you  will  find  eight 
certificates  of  scrip  of  the  Bank  of  France." 

Paul  would  have  put  many  more  questions,  but  the 
visitor  was  already  on  the  threshold,  and  only  paused 
to  add  these  words, — 

"I  will  call  here  to-morrow  with  Dr.  Hortebise." 
Then,  with  a  strange  smile  playing  on  his  lips,  he 


A   NEW   SKIN  327 

added,  as  Mascarin  had  before,  "You  will  be  a  duke 
yet." 

The  old  portress  was  waiting  for  Tantaine,  and  as 
soon  as  she  saw  him  coming  down  the  stairs  im- 
mersed in  deep  thought,  out  she  ran  toward  him  with 
as  much  alacrity  as  her  corpulency  would  admit. 

"Did  I  do  it  all  right?"  asked  she. 

"Hush!"  answered  he,  pushing  her  quickly  into  her 
lodge,  the  door  of  which  stood  open.  "  Hush !  are  you 
mad  or  drunk,  to  talk  like  this,  when  you  do  not  know 
who  is  listening?" 

"I  hope  you  were  pleased  with  my  success,"  con- 
tinued the  woman,  aghast  at  his  sudden  anger. 

"You  did  well — very  well;  you  piled  up  the  evi- 
dence perfectly.  I  shall  have  an  excellent  report  to 
make  of  you  to  M.  Mascarin." 

"  I  am  so  glad ;  and  now  my  husband  and  I  are  quite 
safe?" 

The  old  man  shook  his  head  with  an  air  of  doubt. 

"  Well,  I  can  hardly  say  that  yet ;  the  master's  arm 
is  long  and  strong;  but  you  have  numerous  enemies. 
All  the  servants  in  the  house  hate  you,  and  would  be 
glad  to  see  you  come  to  grief." 

"Is  that  really  so,  sir?  How  can  that  be,  for  both 
I  and  my  husband  have  been  very  kind  to  all  of  them  ?  " 

"Yes,  perhaps  you  have  been  lately,  but  how  about 
the  times  before?  You  and  your  husband  both  acted 
very  foolishly.  Article  386  cannot  be  got  now,  and 
two  women  can  swear  that  they  saw  you  and  your  hus- 
band, with  a  bunch  of  keys  in  your  hand,  on  the  sec- 
ond floor." 

The  fat  woman's  face  turned  a  sickly  yellow,  she 
clasped  her  hands,  and  whined  in  tones  of  piteous  en- 
treaty,— 


328  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  Don't  speak  so  loud,  sir,  I  beg  of  you." 

"You  made  a  terrible  mistake  in  not  coming  to  my 
master  earlier,  for  there  had  been  then  so  much  talk 
that  the  matter  had  reached  the  ears  of  the  police." 

"  But  for  all  that,  if  M.  Mascarin  pleased " 

"  He  does  please,  my  good  woman,  and  is  quite  will- 
ing to  serve  you.  I  am  sure  that  he  will  manage  to 
break  the  inquiry;  or  if  it  must  go  on,  he  has  several 
witnesses  who  will  depose  in  your  favor;  but,  you 
know,  he  gives  nothing  for  nothing,  and  must  have 
implicit  obedience/' 

"  Good,  kind  man  that  he  is,  my  husband  and  I 
would  go  through  fire  and  water  for  him,  while  my 
daughter,  Euphenice,  would  do  anything  in  the  world 
for  him." 

Tantaine  recoiled  uneasily,  for  the  old  woman's  grat- 
itude was  so  demonstrative  that  he  feared  she  was 
about  to  embrace  him. 

"  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  stick  firmly  to  what  you 
have  said  about  Paul,"  continued  he,  when  he  found 
himself  at  a  safe  distance ;  "  and  if  ever  you  breathe 
a  word  of  what  you  have  been  doing,  he  will  hand 
you  over  to  the  law,  and  then  take  care  of  Article 
386." 

It  was  evident  that  this  portion  of  the  Code,  that  had 
reference  to  the  robbery  of  masters  by  servants,  struck 
terror  into  the  woman's  soul. 

"  If  I  stood  on  the  scaffold,"  said  she,  "  I  would  tell 
the  story  about  M.  Paul  exactly  as  I  have  been  taught." 

Her  tone  was  so  sincere,  that  Tantaine  addressed  her 
in  a  kindlier  voice. 

"  Stick  to  that."  said  he,  "  and  I  can  say  to  you, 
'  Hope.'  Upon  the  day  on  which  the  young  man's  busi- 
ness is  settled  you  will  get  a  paper  from  me,  which 


A   NEW  SKIN  329 

will  prove  your  complete  innocence,  and  enable  you  to 
say,  '  I  have  been  grossly  maligned.' " 

"  May  the  dear  young  man's  business  be  settled 
sharp/'  said  she. 

"  It  will  not  be  long  before  it  is  so ;  but,  remember, 
in  the  meantime  you  must  keep  an  eye  upon  him." 

"  I  will  do  so." 

"And,  remember,  report  to  me  whoever  comes  to 
see  him,  no  matter  who  it  may  be." 

"  Not  a  soul  can  go  upstairs  without  my  seeing  or 
hearing  him." 

"  Well,  if  any  one,  save  the  master,  Dr.  Hortebise,  or 
myself  comes,  do  not  lose  a  moment,  but  come  and  re- 
port." 

"  You  shall  know  in  five  minutes." 

"  I  wonder  if  that  is  all  I  have  to  say  ?  "  mused  Tan- 
taine.  "Ah!  I  remember:  note  exactly  the  hour  at 
which  this  young  man  comes  and  goes.  Do  not  have 
any  conversation  with  him;  answer  all  questions  he 
addresses  you  with  a  simple  'Yes/  or  'No/  and,  as 
I  said  before,  watch  his  every  movement." 

And  Tantaine  turned  to  go  away,  paying  no  atten- 
tion to  the  woman's  eager  protestations. 

"  Keep  a  strict  watch,"  were  his  last  words,  "  and, 
above  all,  see  that  the  lad  gets  into  no  scrape." 

In  Tantaine's  presence  Paul  had  endeavored  to  as- 
sume an  air  of  bravado,  but  as  soon  as  he  was  left  alone 
he  was  seized  with  such  mortal  terror,  that  he  sank 
in  a  half  fainting  condition  into  an  easy-chair.  He 
felt  that  he  was  not  going  to  put  on  a  disguise  for  a 
brief  period,  but  for  life,  and  that  now,  though  he  rose 
in  life,  wealth,  title,  even  a  wife  would  all  have  been 
obtained  by  a  shameful  and  skilfully  planned  decep- 
tion, and  this  deception  he  must  keep  up  until  the  day 


330  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

of  his  death.  He  shuddered  as  he  recalled  Tantaine's 
words,  "  Paul  Violaine  is  dead."  He  recalled  the  inci- 
dents in  the  life  of  the  escaped  galley-slave  Coignard, 
who,  under  the  name  of  Pontis  de  St.  Helene,  abso- 
lutely assumed  the  rank  of  a  general  officer,  and  took 
command  of  a  domain.  Coignard  was  recognized  and 
betrayed  by  an  old  fellow-prisoner,  and  this  was  ex- 
actly the  risk  that  Paul  knew  he  must  run,  for  any 
of  his  old  companions  might  recognize  and  denounce 
him.  Had  he  on  such  an  occasion  sufficient  presence 
of  mind  to  turn  laughingly  to  his  accuser,  and  say, 
te  Really,  my  good  fellow,  you  are  in  error,  for  I  never 
set  eyes  on  you  before  ?  " 

He  felt  that  he  could  not  do  it,  and  had  he  any 
means  of  existence,  he  would  have  solved  the  difficulty 
by  taking  to  flight.  But  he  knew  that  men  like  Mas- 
carin,  Hortebise,  and  Tantaine  were  not  easily  eluded, 
and  his  heart  sank  within  him  as  he  remembered  the 
various  crumbs  of  information  that  each  of  these  men 
had  dropped  before  him.  To  agree  to  their  sordid  pro- 
posals, and  to  remain  in  the  position  in  which  he  was, 
was  certainly  to  incur  a  risk,  but  it  was  one  that  was 
a  long  way  off,  and  might  never  eventually  come  to 
pass;  while  to  change  his  mind  would  be  as  sure  to 
bring  down  swift  and  condign  punishment  upon  his 
head;  and  the  weak  young  man  naturally  chose  the 
more  remote  contingency,  and  with  this  determination 
the  last  qualms  of  his  conscience  expired. 

The  first  night  he  slept  badly  in  his  new  abode,  for 
it  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  spectre  of  the  man  whose 
place  he  was  to  usurp  was  hovering  over  his  couch. 
But  with  the  dawn  of  day,  and  especially  when  the 
hour  arrived  for  him  to  go  out  and  give  his  lessons, 
he  felt  his  courage  return  to  him,  though  rashness  per- 


A   NEW    SKIN  331 

haps  would  be  the  more  correct  word.  And  with  a 
mien  of  perfect  confidence  he  repaired  to  the  house  of 
Mademoiselle  Grandorge,  the  oldest  of  his  pupils.  Im- 
pelled by  the  same  feeling  of  curiosity  as  to  how  Paul 
would  comport  himself,  both  Dr.  Hortebise  and  Father 
Tantaine  had  been  hanging  about  the  Rue  Montmartre, 
and  taking  advantage  of  a  heavy  dray  that  was  pass- 
ing, caught  a  good  glimpse  of  the  young  man. 

"  Aha,"  chuckled  Tantaine,  delighted  at  seeing  Paul 
look  so  brisk  and  joyous,  "our  young  cock  is  in 
full  feather;  last  night  he  was  decidedly  rather 
nervous." 

"  Yes/'  answered  the  doctor,  "  he  is  on  the  right 
road,  and  I  think  that  we  shall  have  no  further  trouble 
with  him." 

They  then  thought  it  would  be  as  well  to  see  Mother 
Brigaut,  and  were  received  by  the  old  woman  with 
slavish  deference. 

"  No  one  has  been  near  the  dear  young  gentleman," 
said  she,  in  reply  to  their  questions.  "  Last  night  he 
came  down  about  seven  o'clock,  and  asked  where  the 
nearest  eating-house  was.  I  directed  him  to  Du  Val's, 
and  he  was  back  by  eight,  and  by  eleven  I  saw  that 
he  had  put  out  his  light." 

"  How  about  to-day  ?  " 

"  I  went  up  stairs  at  nine,  and  he  had  just  finished 
dressing.  He  told  me  to  get  his  breakfast  ready,  which 
I  did.  He  ate  well,  and  I  said  to  myself,  '  Good ;  the 
bird  is  getting  used  to  its  cage.' " 

"And  then?" 

"Then  he  commenced  singing  like  a  very  bird,  the 
dear  fellow.  His  voice  is  as  sweet  as  his  face;  any 
woman  would  fall  in  love  with  him.  I'm  precious  glad 
that  my  girl,  Euphenice,  is  nowhere  near." 


332  CAUGHT    IN   THE   NET 

"  And  after  that  he  went  out  ?  "  continued  Tantaine. 
a  Did  he  say  how  long  he  would  be  away  ?  " 

"  Only  to  give  his  lessons.  I  suppose  he  expected 
that  you  would  call." 

"  Very  good/'  remarked  the  old  man ;  then,  address- 
ing Dr.  Hortebise,  he  said,  "Perhaps,  sir,  you  are 
going  to  the  Registry  Office  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  want  to  see  Mascarin." 

"  He  is  not  there ;  but  if  you  want  to  see  him  on 
any  special  matter,  you  had  better  come  to  our  young 
friend's  apartment,  and  await  his  arrival." 

"  Very  well,  I  will  do  so,"  answered  the  doctor. 

Hortebise  was  much  more  impressed  than  Paul  with 
the  skill  of  the  hand  which  had  imparted  such  a  look 
of  long  occupation  to  the  rooms. 

"  On  my  word,  the  quiet  simplicity  of  these  rooms 
would  induce  any  father  to  give  his  daughter  to  this 
young  fellow." 

The  old  man's  silence  surprised  him,  and,  turning 
sharply  round,  he  was  struck  by  the  gloomy  look  upon 
his  features. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Hortebise,  with  some 
anxiety.  "What  is  troubling  you?" 

Tantaine  had  thrown  himself  into  a  chair,  and  for 
a  moment  made  no  reply;  then,  springing  to  his  feet, 
he  gave  the  expiring  embers  a  furious  kick,  and  faced 
the  doctor  with  folded  arms. 

"  I  see  much  trouble  before  us,"  said  he  at  last. 

The  doctor's  face  grew  as  gloomy  as  that  of  his 
companion. 

"  Is  it  Perpignan  who  interferes  ?  "  asked  he, 

"  No,  Perpignan  is  only  a  fool ;  but  he  will  do  what 
I  tell  him." 

"  Then  I  really  do  not  see " 


A   NEW   SKIN  333 

"  Do  not  see,"  exclaimed  Tantaine ;  "  but  luckily  for 
us  all,  I  am  not  so  blind.  Have  you  forgotten  this 
marriage  of  De  Croisenois?  There  lies  the  dan- 
ger. All  had  gone  so  smoothly,  every  combination 
had  been  arranged,  and  every  difficulty  foreseen,  and 
now " 

"Well,  you  had  made  too  sure,  that  was  all;  and 
you  were  unprepared  for  the  slightest  check/' 

"  Not  so,  but  I  had  made  no  attempt  to  guard  against 
the  impossible.'* 

"  Of  course,  there  are  limits  to  all  human  intelli- 
gence, but  pray  explain  yourself." 

"  This  is  it,  then,  doctor.  The  most  adroit  energy 
could  never  have  put  in  our  way  such  an  obstacle  as 
now  threatens  us.  Have  you  in  your  experience  of 
society  ever  come  across  a  wealthy  heiress  who  is  in- 
different to  all  the  allurements  of  luxury,  and  is  capable 
of  disinterested  love  ?  " 

The  doctor  smiled  an  expressive  denial. 

"  But  such  an  heiress  does  exist,"  said  Tantaine, 
"and  her  name  is  Sabine  de  Mussidan.  She  loves — 
and  whom  do  you  think? — why  a  mere  painter,  who 
has  crossed  my  path  three  times  already.  He  is  full, 
too,  of  energy  and  perseverance,  and  for  these  quali- 
ties I  have  never  met  his  equal." 

"  What,  a  man  without  friends,  money,  or  position, 
what  can " 

A  rapid  gesture  of  Tantaine's  checked  his  com- 
panion's speech. 

"  Unfortunately  he  is  not  without  friends,"  remarked 
the  genial  Tantaine.  "  He  has  one  friend  at  least ;  can 
you  guess  who  it  is?  No  less  a  personage  than  the 
man  who  was  to  hare  married  Sabine,  M.  de  Breulh- 
Faverlay." 


334  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

At  this  unexpected  news  Hortebise  remained  silent 
and  aghast. 

"  How  on  earth  those  two  met  I  cannot  imagine.  It 
must  have  been  Sabine  who  brought  them  together, 
but  the  facts  remain  the  same.  They  are  close  friends 
anyhow.  And  these  two  men  have  in  their  interests 
the  very  woman  that  I  had  selected  to  push  De  Croise- 
nois' suit/' 

"Is  it  possible?" 

"That  is  my  present  belief.  At  any  rate,  these 
three  had  a  long  interview  last  night,  and  doubtless 
came  to  a  decision  hostile  to  the  interests  of  the 
Marquis." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  asked  Hortebise,  his  lips 
tightly  compressed  with  anxiety.  "  Do  you  mean  that 
they  are  aware  of  the  manner  by  which  De  Croisenois 
hopes  to  succeed  ?  " 

"  Look  here  ?  "  answered  Tantaine.  "  A  general,  on 
the  eve  of  a  battle,  takes  every  precaution,  but  among 
his  subordinates  there  are  always  fools,  if  not  traitors. 
I  had  arranged  a  pretty  little  scene  between  Croisenois 
and  Van  Klopen,  by  which  the  Viscountess  would  be 
securely  trapped.  Unfortunately,  though  the  rehearsal 
was  excellent,  the  representation  was  simply  idiotic. 
Neither  of  the  actors  took  the  least  trouble  to  enter 
into  the  spirit  of  his  part.  I  had  arranged  a  scene  full 
of  delicacy  and  finesse,  and  they  simply  made  a  low, 
coarse  exhibition  of  it  and  themselves.  Fools!  they 
thought  it  was  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  de- 
ceive a  woman  ^  and  finally  the  Marquis,  to  whom  I 
had  recommended  the  most  perfect  discretion,  opened 
fire,  and  actually  spoke  of  Sabine  and  his  desire  to 
press  his  suit.  The  Viscountess  found,  with  a  woman's 
keen  perceptions,  that  there  was  something  arranged 


A   NEW   SKIN  335 

between  Van  Klopen  and  her  visitor,  and  hurried  off 
to  her  cousin,  M.  de  Breulh-Faverlay  for  advice  and 
assistance." 

The  doctor  listened  to  this  recital,  pallid  and  trem- 
bling. 

"Who  told  you  all  this?"  gasped  he. 

"No  one;  I  discovered  it;  and  it  was  easy  to  do 
so.  When  we  have  a  result,  it  is  easy  to  trace  it  back 
to  the  cause.  Yes,  this  is  what  took  place." 

"  Why  don't  you  say  at  once  that  the  whole  scheme 
is  knocked  on  the  head  ?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

"  Because  I  do  not  think  that  it  is ;  I  know  that  we 
have  sustained  a  very  severe  check;  but  when  you  are 
playing  ecarte  and  your  adversary  has  made  five  points 
to  your  one,  you  do  not  necessarily  throw  down  the 
cards  and  give  up  the  game?  Not  a  bit;  you  hold  on 
and  strive  to  better  your  luck." 

The  worthy  Dr.  Hortebise  did  not  know  whether  the 
most  to  admire  the  perseverance  or  deplore  the  ob- 
stinacy of  the  old  man,  and  exclaimed, — 

"Why,  this  is  utter  madness;  it  is  like  plunging 
headlong  into  a  deep  pit,  which  you  can  easily  see  in 
your  path." 

Tantaine  gave  a  long,  low  whistle. 

"  My  friend,"  said  he,  "  what  in  your  opinion  would 
be  the  best  course  to  pursue  ?  " 

"  I  should  say,  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  turn 
up  the  whole  scheme,  and  look  out  for  another  one, 
which,  if  less  lucrative,  would  not  be  so  full  of  dan- 
ger. You  had  hoped  to  win  the  game,  and  with  good 
reason  too.  Now  throw  aside  all  feelings  of  wounded 
vanity,  and  accept  your  defeat.  After  all,  it  does  not 
matter  to  us  who  Mademoiselle  de  Mussidan  marries. 
The  great  enterprise  fortunately  does  not  lie  in  this 


336  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

alliance.  We  have  still  the  idea  of  the  Company  to 
which  all  old  people  must  subscribe  remaining  to  us, 
and  we  can  work  it  up  at  once." 

He  stopped  short,  abashed  by  the  look  on  Tantaine's 
face. 

"It  strikes  me,"  resumed  the  doctor,  a  little  morti- 
fied, "that  my  proposal  is  not  utterly  ridiculous,  and 
certainly  deserves  some  consideration." 

"  Perhaps  so ;  but  is  it  a  practical  one  ?  " 

"  I  see  no  reason  why  it  should  not  be." 

"  Indeed,  then,  you  look  at  the  thing  in  a  very  dif- 
ferent manner  to  myself.  We  are  too  far  advanced, 
my  dear  doctor,  to  be  our  own  masters.  We  must  go 
on,  and  have  no  option  to  do  otherwise.  To  beat  a  re- 
treat would  simply  be  to  invite  our  enemies  to  fall  upon 
our  disorganized  battalions.  We  must  give  battle;  and 
as  the  first  to  strike  has  always  the  best  chance  of  vic- 
tory, we  must  strive  to  take  the  initiative." 

"  The  idea  is  good,  but  these  are  mere  words." 

"Was  the  secret  that  we  confided  to  De  Croisenois 
only  words  ?  " 

This  thrust  went  home. 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  think  he  would  betray  us?" 
said  he. 

"  Why  should  he  not  if  it  were  to  his  interests  to  do 
so?  Reflect,  Croisenois  is  almost  at  the  end  of  his 
tether.  We  have  dangled  the  line  of  a  princely  fortune 
before  his  eyes.  Do  you  think  he  would  do  nothing  if 
we  were  to  say,  *  Excuse  us,  but  we  made  a  mistake ; 
poor  as  you  are,  so  you  must  remain,  for  we  do  not 
Intend  to  help  you  ? ' " 

"  But  is  it  necessary  to  say  that  at  all  ?  " 

"  Well,  at  any  rate,  whatever  we  choose  to  say,  what 
limit  do  you  think  he  will  place  upon  his  extortions 


A   NEW   SKIN  337 

now  that  he  holds  our  secret?  We  have  taught  him 
his  music,  and  he  will  make  us  do  our  part  in  the 
chorus,  and  can  blackmail  us  as  well  as  we  can  others." 

"  We  played  a  foolish  game,"  answered  Dr.  Horte- 
bise  moodily. 

"  No ;  we  had  to  confide  in  some  one.  Besides,  the 
two  affairs,  that  of  Madame  de  Mussidan  and  the 
Duke  de  Champdoce,  ran  so  well  together.  They  were 
the  simultaneous  emanations  of  my  brain.  I  worked 
them  up  together,  and  together  they  must  stand  or  fall." 

"  Then  you  are  determined  to  go  on  ?  " 

"Yes;  more  determined  than  ever." 

The  doctor  had  been  playing  with  his  locket  for  some 
time,  and  the  contact  of  the  cold  metal  seemed  to  have 
affected  his  nerves ;  for  it  was  in  a  trembling  voice  ,that 
he  replied, — 

"  I  vowed  long  ago  that  we  should  sink  or  swim 
together."  He  paused,  and  then,  with  a  melancholy 
smile  upon  his  face,  continued, — "I  have  no  intention 
of  breaking  my  oath,  you  see;  but  I  repeat,  that  your 
road  seems  to  be  a  most  perilous  one,  and  I  will  add 
that  I  consider  you  headstrong  and  self-opinionated; 
but  for  all  that,  I  will  follow  you,  even  though  the 
path  you  have  chosen  leads  to  the  grave.  I  have  at 
this  moment  a  something  between  my  fingers  that  will 
save  me  from  shame  and  disgrace — a  little  pill  to  be 
swallowed,  a  gasp,  a  little  dizziness,  and  all  is  over." 

Tantaine  did  not  seem  to  care  for  the  doctor's  ex- 
planation. 

"  There,  that  will  do,"  said  he.  "  If  things  come  to 
the  worst,  you  can  use  the  contents  of  your  locket  as 
much  as  you  like,  but  in  the  meantime  leave  it  alone, 
and  do  not  keep  jingling  it  in  that  distracting  manner. 
For  people  of  our  stamp  a  danger  well  known  is  a 


338  CAUGHT   IN    THE   NET 

comparatively  slight  peril,  for  threats  furnish  us  with 
means  of  defence.  Woe,  I  say,  woe  to  the  man  who 
crosses  my  path,  for  I  will  hold  my  hand  from 
nothing !  "  He  stopped  for  a  little,  opened  every  door, 
and  assured  himself  that  there  were  no  eavesdroppers, 
and  then,  in  a  low  whisper,  he  said  to  Hortebise,  "  Do 
you  not  see  that  there  is  but  one  obstacle  to  our  suc- 
cess, and  that  is  Andre?  Remove  him,  and  the  whole 
of  our  machinery  will  work  as  smoothly  as  ever." 

Hortebise  winced,  as  if  suffering  from  a  sudden  pain. 

"  Do  you  mean ?  "  asked  he. 

But  Tantaine  interrupted  him  with  a  low  laugh,  ter- 
rible to  listen  to. 

"And  why  not?"  said  he.  "Is  it  not  better  to  kill 
than  to  be  killed?" 

Hortebise  trembled  from  head  to  foot.  He  had  no 
objection  to  extorting  money  by  the  basest  threats,  but 
he  drew  the  line  at  murder. 

"  And  suppose  we  were  found  out  ?  "  muttered  he. 

"  Nonsense !  How  could  we  be  discovered  ?  Justice 
always  looks  for  a  motive;  how,  then,  could  they  bring 
it  home  to  us?  They  could  only  find  out  that  a  young 
lady  adored  by  De  Breulh  had  thrown  him  over  in 
order  to  marry  Andre." 

"  Horrible !  "  murmured  the  doctor,  much  shocked. 

"  I  daresay  that  it  is  horrible,  and  I  have  no  wish  to 
proceed  to  extremities.  I  only  wish  to  speak  of  it  as 
a  remote  possibility,  and  one  that  we  may  be  compelled 
to  adopt.  I  hate  violence  just  as  much  as  you  do,  and 
trust  that  it  may  not  be  necessary." 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  Paul  entered,  a  letter 
in  his  hand.  He  seemed  in  excellent  spirits,  and  shook 
hands  with  both  his  visitors. 

Tantaine  smiled  sarcastically  as  he  contrasted  Paul's 


A   NEW   SKIN  339 

high  spirits  with  the  state  of  depression  in  which  he 
had  left  him  not  many  hours  ago. 

"Things  are  evidently  going  well  with  you,"  re- 
marked the  doctor,  forcing  a  smile. 

"  Yes ;  I  cannot  find  any  reason  for  complaint." 

"  Have  you  given  your  lesson  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  what  a  delightful  woman  Madame  Grandorge 
is !  she  has  treated  me  so  kindly." 

"  That  is  a  good  reason  for  your  being  so  happy," 
remarked  the  doctor,  with  a  tinge  of  irony  in  his  voice. 

"  Ah,  that  is  not  the  only  reason,"  returned  Paul. 

"  Shall  I  be  indiscreet  if  I  ask  the  real  cause,  then  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  quite  sure  whether  I  ought  to  speak  on 
this  matter,"  said  he  fatuously. 

"  What !  a  love  adventure  already  ? "  laughed  the 
doctor. 

The  vanity  of  Paul's  nature  beamed  out  in  a  smile. 

"  Keep  your  secret,  my  boy,"  said  Tantaine,  in  louder 
accents. 

This,  of  course,  was  enough  to  loosen  Paul's  tongue. 

"Do  you  think,  sir,"  said  he,  "that  I  would  keep 
anything  from  you  ? "  He  opened  the  letter  he  held 
in  his  hand,  continuing:  "The  portress  handed  this  to 
me  as  I  came  in;  she  said  it  was  left  by  a  bank  mes- 
senger. Can  you  guess  where  it  came  from?  Let  me 
tell  you — it  is  from  Mademoiselle  Flavia  Rigal,  and 
leaves  no  room  to  doubt  of  her  sentiments  toward  me." 

"Is  that  a  fact?" 

"  It  is  so ;  and  whenever  I  choose,  Mademoiselle 
Flavia  will  be  only  too  ready  to  become  Madame 
Paul." 

For  an  instant  a  bright  flush  crimsoned  old  Tan- 
taine's  wrinkled  face,  but  it  faded  away  almost  as  soon 
as  it  appeared. 


340  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"Then  you  feel  happy?"  asked  he,  with  a  slight 
quiver  in  his  voice. 

Paul  threw  back  his  coat,  and,  placing  his  fingers  in 
the  armholes  of  his  waistcoat,  remarked  carelessly, — 

"  Yes,  of  course,  I  am  happy,  as  you  may  suppose ; 
but  the  news  is  not  particularly  startling  to  me.  On 
my  third  visit  to  M.  Rigal's,  the  girl  let  me  know  that 
I  need  not  sigh  in  vain." 

Tantaine  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  as  Paul 
passed  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  and,  striking  what 
he  considered  an  imposing  attitude,  read  as  follows : — 

"  MY  DEAR  PAUL, — 

"  I  was  very  naughty,  and  I  repent  of  it.  I  could 
not  sleep  all  night,  for  I  was  haunted  by  the  look  of 
sorrow  I  saw  in  your  face  when  you  took  leave  of  me. 
Paul,  I  did  it  to  try  you.  Can  you  forgive  me?  You 
might,  for  I  suffered  much  more  than  you  could  have 
done.  Some  one  who  loves  me — perhaps  more  than 
you  do — has  told  me  that  when  a  girl  shows  all  the 
depths  of  her  heart  to  a  man  she  runs  the  risk  of 
his  despising  her.  Can  this  be  true  ?  I  hope  not,  Paul, 
for  never — no,  never — can  I  conceal  my  feelings;  and 
the  proof  of  my  faith  in  you  is  that  I  am  going  now 
to  tell  you  all.  I  am  sure  that  if  your  good  friend 
and  mine,  Dr.  Hortebise,  came  to  my  father  with  a 
certain  request  from  you,  it  would  not  be  rejected. 

"Your  own 

"FLAVIA." 

"Did  not  this  letter  go  straight  to  your  heart?" 
asked  Tantaine. 

"  Of  course  it  did.  Why,  she  will  have  a  million 
for  her  wedding  portion !  n 

On  hearing  these  words,  Tantaine  started  up  with  so 
threatening  an  aspect  that  Paul  recoiled  a  step,  but  a 
warning  look  from  the  doctor  restrained  the  old  man's 
indignation. 


A  NEW   SKIN  341 

"He  is  a  perfect  sham!"  muttered  he;  "eren  his 
vices  are  mere  pretence." 

"  He  is  our  pupil,  and  is  what  we  have  made  him/' 
whispered  Tantaine. 

Meanwhile  Tantaine  had  gone  up  to  Paul,  and,  plac- 
ing his  hand  caressingly  on  his  shoulder,  said, — • 

"  My  boy,  you  will  never  know  how  much  you  owe 
to  Mademoiselle  Flavia." 

Paul  could  not  understand  the  meaning  of  this  scene. 
These  men  had  done  their  best  to  pervert  his  morals, 
and  to  deaden  the  voice  of  his  conscience,  and  now 
that  he  had  hoped  to  earn  their  praise  by  an  affectation 
of  cynicism  they  were  displeased  with  him.  Before, 
however,  he  could  ask  a  question,  Tantaine  had  com- 
pletely recovered  his  self-command. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  he,  "  I  am  quite  satisfied  with 
you.  I  came  here  to-day  expecting  to  find  you  still 
undecided,  and  I  am  pleased  with  the  change." 

"  But,  sir "  said  Paul. 

"  On  the  contrary,  you  are  firm  and  strong." 

"  Yes,  he  has  got  on  so  well,"  said  the  doctor,  <e  that 
we  should  now  treat  him  as  one  of  ourselves,  and  con- 
fide more  in  him.  To-night,  my  young  friend,  M. 
Mascarin  will  get  from  Caroline  Schimmel  the  solution 
of  the  riddle  that  has  for  so  long  perplexed  us.  Be  at 
the  office  to-morrow  at  ten  o'clock,  and  you  shall  be 
told  everything." 

Paul  would  have  asked  more  questions,  but  Tantaine 
cut  him  short  with  a  brief  good-morning,  and  went  off 
hurriedly,  taking  the  doctor  with  him,  and  seemingly 
wishing  to  avoid  a  hazardous  and  unpleasant  explana- 
tion. 

"  Let  us  get  out  of  this,"  whispered  he.  <c  In  an- 
other moment  I  should  have  knocked  the  conceited  ass 


342  CAUGHT,  IN   THE   NET 

down.  Oh,  my  Flavia!  my  poor  Flavia!  your  weak- 
ness of  to-day  will  yet  cost  you  very  dear !  " 

Paul  remained  rooted  to  the  ground,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  surprise  and  confusion  upon  every  line  of 
his  face.  All  his  pride  and  vanity  had  gone.  "  I  won- 
der,3' muttered  he,  "  what  these  disagreeable  persons  are 
saying  about  me?  Perhaps  laughing  at  my  inexpe- 
rience and  ridiculing  my  aspirations."  The  idea  made 
him  grind  his  teeth  with  rage ;  but  he  was  mistaken,  for 
neither  Tantaine  nor  the  doctor  mentioned  his  name 
after  they  had  left  his  apartment.  As  they  walked  up 
the  Rue  Montmartre,  all  their  ideas  were  turning  upon 
how  it  would  be  easiest  to  checkmate  Andre. 

"  I  have  not  yet  got  sufficient  information  to  act  on," 
remarked  Tantaine  meditatively.  "  My  present  plan  is 
to  remain  perfectly  quiescent,  and  I  have  told  Croise- 
nois  not  to  make  a  move  of  any  kind.  I  have,  how- 
ever, set  a  watch  upon  all  three — Andre,  the  Countess, 
and  De  Breulh,  and  not  one  can  take  a  step  without  my 
hearing  of  it.  I  have  an  eye  and  ear  watching  and 
listening  when  they  think  themselves  in  perfect  privacy. 

Very  soon  I  shall  fathom  their  plans,  and  then ,  but 

in  the  meantime  have  faith  in  me,  and  do  not  let  the 
matter  worry  you." 

On  the  boulevard  Tantaine  took  leave  of  his  friend. 

"  I  shall  very  likely  not  see  you  to-night,  for  I  have 
an  appointment  at  the  Grand  Turk  with  that  precious 
young  rascal,  Toto  Chupin.  I  must  find  Caroline,  for 
I  am  sure  that  with  her  lies  the  Champdoce  secret. 
She  is  very  cunning,  but  has  a  weakness  for  drink,  and, 
with  Satan's  help,  I  hope  to  find  out  the  special  liquor 
which  will  make  her  open  her  lips  freely." 


AT  THE  GRAND  TURK      343 
CHAPTER  XXVI. 

AT    THE    GRAND    TURK. 

TANTAINE  took  a  cab,  and,  promising  the  cabman  a 
handsome  gratuity  if  he  would  drive  fast,  stopped  at 
the  spot  where  the  Rue  Blanche  intersects  the  Rue  de 
Douai,  and  told  the  coachman  to  wait  for  him,  and  en- 
tered the  house  where  the  younger  Gandelu  had  in- 
stalled the  fair  Madame  de  Chantemille.  It  was  some 
time  before  his  ring  at  the  door  was  answered,  but  at 
last  the  door  was  opened  by  a  stout,  red-faced  girl,  with 
an  untidy  cap.  Upon  seeing  Tantaine,  she  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  delight,  for  it  was  the  cook  that  had 
been  placed  in  Zora's  employment  by  M.  Mascarin's 
agency. 

"  Ah,  Daddy  Tantaine,"  said  she,  "  you  are  as  wel- 
come as  the  sun  in  winter." 

"  Hush,  hush,"  returned  the  old  man,  gazing  cau- 
tiously round  him. 

"  Don't  be  frightened,"  returned  the  girl.  "  Madame 
has  gone  to  a  place  from  whence  there  is  no  return 
ticket,  at  least,  for  some  time.  You  know  the  greater 
the  value  of  an  article  the  closer  we  keep  it  under 
lock  and  key." 

Tantaine  gathered  from  this  that  Rose  had  been  ar- 
rested, and  his  astonishment  appeared  to  be  unmeas- 
ured. 

"  Surely  you  don't  mean  that  she  has  gone  to  quod  ?  " 
said  he. 

"  It  is  as  I  tell  you,"  answered  she ;  "  but  come  in, 
and  have  a  glass  of  wine,  while  you  hear  all  about  it." 


344  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

She  led  the  old  man  into  the  dining-room,  round  the 
table  in  which  half  a  dozen  guests  were  seated,  just 
concluding  a  late  breakfast.  Tantaine  at  once  recog- 
nized four  of  the  several  guests  as  servants  whom  he 
knew  from  their  having  applied  for  situations  at  the 
office,  and  there  were  two  men  of  a  very  unprepossess- 
ing exterior. 

"  We  are  having  a  regular  spree  to-day,"  observed 
the  cook,  handing  a  bottle  to  Tantaine ;  "  but  yesterday 
there  was  not  much  of  a  jollification  here,  for  just  as 
I  was  setting  about  getting  the  dinner  two  fellows  came 
in  and  asked  for  my  mistress,  and  as  soon  as  they  saw 
her  they  clapped  their  hands  on  her  and  said  that  she 
must  come  to  the  stone  jug.  When  madame  heard  this 
she  shrieked  so  loud  as  to  have  been  heard  in  the  next 
street.  She  would  not  go  a  foot  with  them,  clung  to 
the  furniture  and  banisters,  so  they  just  took  her  up 
by  the  head  and  feet,  and  carried  her  down  to  a  cab 
that  was  standing  at  the  door.  I  seem  to  bring  ill  luck 
wherever  I  go,  for  this  is  the  fourth  mistress  I  have 
seen  taken  off  in  this  way;  but  come,  you  are  taking 
nothing  at  all/' 

But  Tantaine  had  had  enough,  and  making  an  ex- 
cuse, retired  from  a  debauch  which  he  saw  would  con- 
tinue as  long  as  the  wine  held  out. 

"  All  is  going  well,"  muttered  he,  as  he  climbed  into 
the  cab ;  "  and  now  for  the  next  one." 

He  drove  straight  to  the  house  that  the  elder  Gan- 
delu  was  building  in  the  Champs  Elysees,  and  putting 
his  head  out  of  the  window,  he  accosted  a  light,  active 
young  fellow  who  was  warning  the  foot  passengers  not 
to  pass  under  the  scaffolding. 

"Anything  new,  La  Cordille?"  enquired  the  old 
man. 


AT   THE    GRAND   TURK  345 

<e  No,  nothing ;  but  tell  the  master  I  am  keeping  a 
good  watch." 

From  there  Tantaine  visited  a  footman  in  De 
Breulh's  employment,  and  a  woman  in  the  service  of 
Madame  de  Bois  Arden.  Then,  paying  his  fare,  he 
started  on  foot  for  Father  Canon's  wine  shop,  in  the 
Rue  St.  Honore,  where  he  met  Florestan,  who  was  as 
saucy  and  supercilious  to  Tantaine  as  he  was  obse- 
quious to  Mascarin.  But  although  he  paid  for  Flor- 
estan's  dinner,  all  that  he  could  extort  from  him  was, 
that  Sabine  was  terribly  depressed.  It  was  fully  eight 
o'clock  before  Tantaine  had  got  rid  of  Florestan,  and 
hailing  another  cab,  he  ordered  the  driver  to  take  him 
to  the  Grand  Turk,  in  the  Rue  des  Poissonniers. 

The  magnificent  sign  of  the  Grand  Turk  dances  in 
the  breeze,  and  invites  such  youths  as  Toto  Chupin  and 
his  companions.  The  whole  aspect  of  the  exterior 
seemed  to  invite  the  passers-by  to  step  in  and  try  the 
good  cheer  provided  within, — a  good  table  d'hote  at 
six  p.m.,  coffee,  tea,  liquors,  and  a  grand  ball  to  com- 
plete the  work  of  digestion.  A  long  corridor  leads  to 
this  earthly  Eden,  and  the  two  doors  at  the  end  of  it 
open,  the  one  into  the  dining,  and  the  other  into  the 
ball-room.  A  motley  crew  collected  there  for  the 
evening  meal,  and  on  Sundays  it  is  next  to  impossible 
to  procure  a  seat.  But  the  dining-room  is  the  Grand 
Turk's  brightest  attraction,  for  as  soon  as  the  dessert 
is  over  the  head  waiter  makes  a  sign,  and  dishes  and 
tablecloths  are  cleared  away  in  a  moment.  The  dining- 
room  becomes  a  cafe,  and  the  click  of  dominoes  gives 
way  to  rattle  of  forks,  while  beer  flows  freely.  This, 
however,  is  nothing,  for,  at  a  second  signal,  huge  fold- 
ing doors  are  thrown  open,  and  the  strains  of  an  or- 
chestra ring  out  as  an  invitation  to  the  ball,  to  which 


346  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

all  diners  are  allowed  free  entrance.  Nothing  is  danced 
but  round  dances,  polkas,  mazurkas,  and  waltzes. 

The  German  element  was  very  strong  at  the  Grand 
Turk,  and  if  a  gentleman  wished  to  make  himself 
agreeable  to  his  fair  partners,  it  was  necessary  for 
him,  at  any  rate,  to  be  well  up  in  the  Alsatian  dialect. 
The  master  of  the  ceremonies  had  already  called  upon 
the  votaries  of  Terpsichore  to  take  their  places  for  the 
waltz  as  Daddy  Tantaine  entered  the  hall.  The  scene 
was  a  most  animated  one,  and  the  air  heavy  with  the 
scent  of  beer  and  tobacco,  and  would  have  asphyxiated 
any  one  not  used  to  venture  into  such  places. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  he  had  ever  visited  the 
Grand  Turk,  and  yet  any  one  observing  would  have 
sworn  that  he  was  one  of  the  regular  frequenters  as  he 
marched  idly  through  the  rooms,  making  constant 
pauses  at  the  bar.  But  glance  around  him  as  he  might,  he 
could  see  neither  Toto  Chupin  nor  Caroline  Schimmel. 

"  Have  I  come  here  for  nothing/'  muttered  he,  "  or 
is  the  hour  too  early?" 

It  was  hard  to  waste  time  thus,  but  at  last  he  sat 
down  and  ordered  some  beer.  His  eyes  wandered  to 
a  large  picture  on  the  wall,  representing  a  fat,  eastern- 
looking  man,  with  a  white  turban  and  loose,  blue  gar- 
ments, seated  in  a  crimson  chair,  with  his  feet  resting 
upon  a  yellow  carpet.  One  hand  was  caressing  his  pro- 
tuberant paunch,  while  the  other  was  extended  toward 
a  glass  of  beer.  Evidently  this  is  the  Grand  Turk. 
And  finally  by  an  odalisque,  who  fills  his  goblet  with 
the  foaming  infusion  of  malt  and  hops.  This  odalisque 
is  very  fair  and  stout,  and  some  fair  Alsatian  damsel 
has  evidently  sat  as  the  model.  As  Tantaine  was 
gazing  upon  this  wondrous  work  of  art  he  heard  a 
squeaking  voice  just  behind  him. 


AT   THE   GRAND   TURK  347 

"That  is  certainly  that  young  rogue  Chupin/'  mut- 
tered he. 

He  turned  sharply  round,  and  two  tables  off,  in  a 
dark  corner,  he  discovered  the  young  gentleman  that 
he  had  been  looking  for.  As  he  gazed  on  the  lad,  he 
was  not  surprised  that  he  had  not  recognized  him  at 
first,  for  Toto  had  been  strangely  transmogrified,  and 
in  no  degree  resembled  the  boy  who  had  shivered  in  a 
tattered  blouse  in  the  archway  near  the  Servants'  Reg- 
istry Office.  He  was  now  gorgeous  to  behold.  From 
the  moment  that  he  had  got  his  hundred  francs  he  had 
chalked  out  a  new  line  of  life  for  himself,  and  was 
busy  pursuing  it.  He  had  found  that  he  could  make 
all  his  friends  merry,  and  he  had  succeeded.  He  had 
made  a  selection  from  the  most  astounding  wares  that 
the  Parisian  tailor  keeps  on  hand.  He  had  sneered  at 
young  Gaston  de  Gandelu,  and  called  him  an  ape ;  but  he 
had  aped  the  ape.  He  wore  a  very  short,  light  coat,  a 
waistcoat  that  was  hideous  from  its  cut  and  brilliancy, 
and  trousers  strapped  tightly  under  his  feet.  His  col- 
lar was  so  tall  and  stiff,  that  he  had  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty in  turning  his  head.  He  had  gone  to  a  barber, 
and  his  lank  hair  had  been  artistically  curled.  The 
table  in  front  of  him  was  covered  with  glasses  and 
bottles.  Two  shocking  looking-scamps  of  the  true 
barrier  bully  type,  with  loose  cravats  and  shiny-peaked 
caps,  were  seated  by  him,  and  were  evidently  his  guests. 
Tantaine's  first  impulse  was  to  catch  the  debauched 
youth  by  the  ear,  but  he  hesitated  for  an  instant  and 
reflection  conquered  the  impulse.  With  the  utmost 
caution  so  that  he  might  not  attract  Toto's  atten- 
tion, he  crept  down  to  him,  concealing  himself  as 
best  he  could  behind  one  of  the  pillars  that  support- 
ed the  gallery,  and  by  this  manoeuvre  found  himself 


348  CAUGHT   IN  THE   NET 

so  close  to  the  lad  that  he  could  catch  every  word 
he  said. 

Chupin  was  talking  volubly. 

"  Don't  you  call  me  a  swell,  nor  yet  say  that  I  brag," 
said  he.  "  I  shall  always  make  this  kind  of  appear- 
ance, for  to  work  in  the  manner  I  propose,  a  man  must 
pay  some  attention  to  dress." 

At  this  his  companions  roared  with  laughter. 

"  All  right,"  returned  Toto.  "  I'm  precious  sharp, 
though  you  may  not  think  so,  and  shall  go  in  for  all 
kinds  of  elegant  accomplishments,  and  come  out  a  reg- 
ular masher." 

"  Wonders  will  never  cease,"  answered  one  of  the 
men.  "  When  you  go  on  your  trip  for  action  in  the 
Bois  among  the  toffs,  will  you  take  me  with  you  ?  " 

"  Any  one  can  go  to  the  Bois  who  has  money :  and 
just  tell  me  who  are  those  who  make  money.  Why, 
those  who  have  plenty  of  cheek  and  a  good  sound  busi- 
ness. Well,  I  have  learned  my  business  from  some  real 
downy  cards,  who  made  it  pay  well.  Why  should  I 
not  do  the  same?" 

With  a  sickening  feeling  of  terror,  Tantaine  saw 
that  the  lad  was  half  drunk.  What  could  he  be  going 
to  say?  and  how  much  did  he  know?  Toto's  guests 
evidently  saw  that  he  had  taken  too  much;  but  as  he 
seemed  ready  to  let  them  into  a  secret,  they  paid  great 
attention,  and  exchanged  a  look  of  intelligence.  The 
young  rogue's  new  clothes  and  his  liberality  all  proved 
that  he  had  found  a  means  of  gaining  money ;  the  only 
question  was  what  the  plan  could  be.  To  induce  him 
to  talk  they  passed  the  bottle  rapidly  and  flattered  him 
up.  The  younger  man  of  the  two  shook  his  head  with 
a  smile. 

"I  don't  believe  you  have  any  business  at  all,"  said  he. 


AT   THE   GRAND  TURK  349 

"Nor  have  I,  if  by  business  you  mean  some  low 
handicraft.  It  is  brain  work  I  mean,  my  boy;  and 
that's  what  I  do." 

"  I  don't  doubt  that  a  bit/'  answered  the  elder  guest 
coaxingly. 

"  Come  on !  Tell  us  what  it  is,"  broke  in  the  other. 
"  You  can't  expect  us  to  take  your  word." 

"  It  is  as  easy  as  lying,"  replied  Toto.  "  Listen  a 
bit,  and  you  shall  have  the  whole  bag  of  tricks.  Sup- 
pose I  saw  Polyte  steal  a  couple  of  pairs  of  boots  from 
a  trotter-case  seller's  stall " 

Polyte  interrupted  the  narrator,  protesting  so  strong- 
ly that  he  would  not  commit  such  an  act,  that  Tantaine 
perceived  at  once  that  some  such  trifling  act  of  larceny 
weighed  heavily  on  his  conscience. 

"You  needn't  kick  up  such  a  row,"  returned  Toto. 
"  I  am  only  just  putting  it  as  a  thing  that  might  hap- 
pen. We  will  say  you  had  done  the  trick,  and  that  I 
had  twigged  you.  Do  you  know  what  I  should  do? 
Well,  I  would  hunt  up  Polyte,  and  say  quietly, '  Halves, 
old  man,  or  I  will  split.' " 

"And  I  should  give  you  a  crack  in  the  jaw,"  re- 
turned Polyte  angrily. 

Forgetting  his  fine  dress,  Toto  playfully  put  his 
thumb  to  his  nose  and  extended  his  fingers. 

"You  would  not  be  such  an  ass,"  said  he.  "You 
would  say  to  yourself,  '  If  I  punch  this  chap,  he  will 
kick  up  no  end  of  a  row,  and  I  shall  be  taken 
up,  and  perhaps  sent  to  the  mill.'  No;  you  would 
be  beastly  civil,  and  would  end  by  doing  just  as  I 
wished." 

"  And  this  is  what  you  call  your  business,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Isn't  it  a  good  one — the  mugs  stand  the  racket,  and 
the  downy  cards  profit  by  it  ?  " 


350  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  But  there  is  no  novelty  in  this ;  it  is  only  blackmail 
after  all." 

"  I  never  said  it  wasn't ;  but  it  is  blackmailing  per- 
fected into  a  system." 

As  Toto  made  this  reply  he  hammered  on  the  table, 
calling  for  more  drink. 

"  But,"  remarked  Polyte,  with  an  air  of  disappoint- 
ment, "  you  don't  get  chances  every  day,  and  the  busi- 
ness is  often  a  precious  poor  one.  You  can't  always  be 
seeing  chaps  prigging  boots." 

"  Pooh !  pooh ! "  answered  Toto,  "  if  you  want  to 
make  money  in  this  business,  you  must  keep  your  eyes 
about  you.  Our  customers  don't  come  to  you,  but 
there  is  nothing  to  prevent  you  going  to  them.  You 
can  hunt  until  you  find  them." 

"  And  where  are  you  to  hunt,  if  you  please  ?  " 

"  Ah,  that's  tellings." 

A  long  silence  ensued,  during  which  Tantaine  was 
half  tempted  to  come  forward.  By  doing  so  he  would 
assuredly  nip  all  explanations  in  the  bud;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  he  wanted  to  hear  all  the  young  rascal  had 
to  say.  He  therefore  only  moved  a  little  nearer,  and 
listened  more  intently. 

Forgetting  his  curls,  Toto  was  abstractedly  passing 
his  fingers  through  his  hair,  and  reflecting  with  all  the 
wisdom  of  a  muddled  brain.  Finally,  he  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  might  speak,  and,  leaning  forward, 
he  whispered, — 

"You  won't  peach  if  I  tell  you  the  dodge?" 

His  companions  assured  him  that  he  might  have 
every  confidence  in  them. 

"Very  well;  I  make  my  money  in  the  Champs 
Elysees,  and  sometimes  get  a  harvest  twice  a  day." 

"  But  there  are  no  shoemakers'  shops  there." 


AT   THE   GRAND  TURK  351 

"You  are  a  fool,"  answered  Toto  contemptuously. 
"  Do  you  think  I  blackmail  thieves  ?  That  wouldn't  be 
half  good  enough.  Honest  people,  or  at  least  people 
who  call  themselves  honest,  are  my  game.  These  are 
the  ones  who  can  be  made  to  pay  up." 

Tantaine  shuddered;  he  remembered  that  Mascarin 
had  made  use  of  the  same  expression,  and  at  once  sur- 
mised that  Toto  must  have  had  an  occasional  ear  to 
the  keyhole. 

"  But,"  objected  Polyte,  "  honest  people  have  no  oc- 
casion to  pay  up." 

Toto  struck  his  glass  so  heavily  on  the  table  that  it 
flew  to  shivers. 

"Will  you  let  me  speak?"  said  he. 

"  Go  on,  go  on,  my  boy,"  returned  his  friend. 

"Well,  when  Fm  hard  up  for  cash,  I  go  into  the 
Champs  Elysees,  and  take  a  seat  on  one  of  the  benches. 
From  there  I  keep  an  eye  on  the  cabs,  and  see  who  get 
out  of  them.  If  a  respectable  woman  does  so,  I  am 
sure  of  my  bird." 

"  Do  you  think  you  know  a  respectable  woman  when 
you  see  her?" 

"  I  should  just  think  that  I  did.  Well,  when  a  re- 
spectable woman  gets  out  of  a  cab  where  she  ought  not 
to  have  been,  she  looks  about  her  on  all  sides,  first  to 
the  right  and  then  to  the  left,  settles  her  veil,  and,  as 
soon  as  she  is  sure  that  no  one  is  watching  her,  sets 
off  as  if  old  Nick  was  behind  her." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  do  then? " 

"  Why,  I  take  the  number  of  the  cab,  and  follow  the 
lady  home.  Then  I  wait  until  she  has  had  time  to  get 
to  her  own  rooms,  and  go  to  the  porter  and  say,  '  Will 
you  give  me  the  name  of  the  lady  who  has  just  come 
in?'" 


352  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  And  do  you  think  the  porter  is  fool  enough  to  do 
so?7' 

"  Not  a  bit ;  I  always  take  the  precaution  of  having 
a  delicate  little  purse  in  my  pocket;  and  when  the  man 
says,  as  he  always  does,  '  I  don't  know/  I  pull  out  the 
purse  and  say,  '  I  am  sorry  for  that,  for  she  dropped 
this  as  she  came  in,  and  I  wanted  to  return  it  to  her/ 
The  porter  at  once  becomes  awfully  civil;  she  gives  the 
name  and  number,  and  up  I  go.  The  first  time  I  con- 
tent myself  with  finding  out  if  she  is  married  or  single. 
If  she  is  single,  it  is  no  go;  but  if  the  reverse,  I  go 
on  with  the  job/' 

"Why,  what  do  you  do  next?" 

"  Next  morning  I  go  there,  and  hang  about  until 
I  see  the  husband  go  out.  Then  I  go  upstairs,  and 
ask  for  the  wife.  It  is  ticklish  work  then,  my  lads; 
but  I  say,  c  Yesterday,  madame,  I  was  unlucky  enough 
to  leave  my  pocketbook  in  cab  number  so-and-so.  Now, 
as  I  saw  you  hail  the  vehicle  immediately  after  I  had 
left  it,  I  have  come  to  ask  you  if  you  saw  my  pocket- 
book/  The  lady  flies  into  a  rage,  denies  all  knowledge 
of  the  book,  and  threatens  to  have  me  turned  out. 
Then,  with  the  utmost  politeness,  I  say, '  I  see,  madame, 
that  there  is  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  communicate  the 
matter  to  your  husband/  Then  she  gets  alarmed,  and 
— she  pays." 

"  And  you  don't  see  any  more  of  her  ?  " 

"  Not  that  day ;  but  when  the  funds  are  low,  I  call 
and  say,  '  It  is  I  again,  madame ;  I  am  the  poor  young 
man  who  lost  his  money  in  such  and  such  a  cab  on  a 
certain  day  of  the  month/  And  so  the  game  goes  on. 
A  dozen  such  clients  give  a  fellow  a  very  fair  income. 
Now,  perhaps,  you  understand  why  I  am  always  so 
well  dressed,  and  always  have  money  in  my  pocket. 


AT   THE   GRAND   TURK  353 

When  I  was  shabbily  attired,  they  offered  me  a  five- 
franc  piece,  but  now  they  come  down  with  a  flimsy." 

The  young  wretch  spoke  the  truth;  for  to  many 
women,  who  in  a  mad  moment  of  passion  may  have 
forgotten  themselves,  and  been  tracked  to  their  homes 
by  some  prowling  blackmailer,  life  has  been  an  endless 
journey  of  agony.  Every  knock  at  the  door  makes 
them  start,  and  every  footfall  on  the  staircase  causes 
a  tremor  as  they  think  that  the  villain  has  come  to 
betray  their  guilty  secret. 

"That  is  all  talk,"  said  Polyte;  "such  things  are 
never  done." 

"  They  are  done,"  returned  Toto  sulkily. 

"Have  you  ever  tried  the  dodge  yourself,  then?" 
sneered  Polyte. 

At  another  time  Chupin  would  have  lied,  but  the 
fumes  of  the  drink  he  had  taken,  added  to  his  natural 
self-conceit,  had  deprived  him  of  all  judgment. 

"  Well,"  muttered  he,  "  if  I  have  not  done  it  myself 
exactly,  I  have  seen  others  practise  it  often  enough — 
on  a  much  larger  scale,  it  is  true;  but  one  can  always 
do  things  in  a  more  miniature  fashion  with  perhaps  a 
better  chance  of  success." 

"  What !  you  have  seen  this  done  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  have." 

"  And  had  you  a  share  in  the  swag  ?  " 

"  To  a  certain  extent.  I  have  followed  the  cabs 
times  without  number,  and  have  watched  the  goings  on 
of  these  fine  ladies  and  gentlemen ;  only  I  was  working 
for  others,  like  the  dog  that  catches  the  hare,  and  never 
has  a  bit  of  it  to  eat.  No,  all  I  got  was  dry  bread, 
with  a  kick  or  a  cuff  for  dessert.  I  sha'n't  put  up  with 
it  any  longer,  and  have  made  up  my  mind  to  open  on 
my  own  account." 


354  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"And  who  has  been  employing  you?" 

A  flash  of  sense  passed  through  Chupin's  muddled 
brain.  He  had  never  wished  to  injure  Mascarin,  but 
merely  to  increase  his  own  importance  by  extolling  the 
greatness  of  his  employer. 

"  I  worked  for  people  who  have  no  equal  in  Paris," 
said  he  proudly.  "They  don't  mince  matters  either,  I 
can  tell  you;  and  they  have  more  money  than  you 
could  count  in  six  months.  There  is  not  a  thing  they 
cannot  do  if  they  desire ;  and  if  I  were  to  tell  you " 

He  stopped  short,  his  mouth  wide  open,  and  his  eyes 
dilated  with  terror,  for  before  him  stood  old  Daddy 
Tantaine. 

Tantaine's  face  had  a  most  benign  expression  upon 
it,  and  in  a  most  paternal  voice  he  exclaimed, — 

"And  so  here  you  are  at  last,  my  lad;  and,  bless 
me,  how  fine !  why,  you  look  like  a  real  swell." 

But  Toto  was  terribly  disconcerted.  The  mere  ap- 
pearance of  Tantaine  dissipated  the  fumes  of  liquor 
which  had  hitherto  clouded  the  boy's  brain,  and  by 
degrees  he  recollected  all  that  he  had  said,  and,  becom- 
ing conscious  of  his  folly,  had  a  vague  idea  of  some 
swift-coming  retribution.  Toto  was  a  sharp  lad,  and 
he  was  by  no  means  deceived  by  Tantaine's  outward 
semblance  of  friendliness,  and  he  almost  felt  as  if  his 
life  depended  on  the  promptness  of  his  decision.  The 
question  was,  had  the  old  man  heard  anything  of  the 
preceding  conversation? 

"If  the  old  rogue  has  been  listening,"  said  he  to 
himself,  "  I  am  in  a  hole,  and  no  mistake." 

It  was,  therefore,  with  a  simulated  air  of  ease  that 
he  answered, — 

"  I  was  waiting  for  you,  sir,  and  it  was  out  of 
respect  to  you  that  I  put  on  my  very  best  togs." 


AT  THE   GRAND  TURK  355 

"That  was  very  nice  of  you;  I  ought  to  thank  you 
very  much.  And  now,  will  you " 

Toto's  courage  was  coming  back  to  him  rapidly. 

"  Will  you  take  a  glass  of  beer,  or  a  liquor  of  brandy, 
sir  ?  "  said  he. 

But  Daddy  Tantaine  excused  himself  on  the  plea  that 
he  had  just  been  drinking. 

"  That  is  all  the  more  reason  for  being  thirsty,"  re- 
marked Toto.  "  My  friends  and  I  have  drunk  the  con- 
tents of  all  these  bottles  since  dinner." 

Tantaine  raised  his  shabby  hat  at  this  semi-intro- 
duction, and  the  two  roughs  bowed  uncouthly.  They 
were  not  entirely  satisfied  with  the  appearance  of  the 
new-comer,  and  thought  that  this  would  be  a  good  mo- 
ment for  taking  leave  of  their  host.  The  waltz  had 
just  concluded,  and  the  master  of  the  ceremonies  was 
repeating  his  eternal  refrain  of — 

"  Take  your  places,  ladies  and  gentlemen ; "  and  tak- 
ing advantage  of  the  noise,  Toto's  friends  shook  hands 
with  their  host  and  adroitly  mixed  with  the  crowd. 

"Good  fellows!  jolly  fellows;"  muttered  Toto, 
striving  to  catch  a  last  glimpse  of  them.  • 

Tantaine  gave  a  low,  derisive  whistle.  "My  lad," 
said  he,  "you  keep  execrable  company,  and  one  day 
you  will  repent  it." 

"  I  can  look  after  myself,  sir." 

"  Do  as  you  like,  my  lad ;  it  is  no  business  of  mine. 
But,  take  my  word  for  it,  you  will  come  to  grief  some 
day.  I  have  told  you  that  often  enough." 

"  If  the  old  rascal  suspected  anything,"  thought  Toto, 
"  he  would  not  talk  in  this  way." 

Wretched  Toto !  he  did  not  know  that  when  his 
spirits  were  rising  the  danger  was  terribly  near,  for 
Tantaine  was  just  then  saying  to  himself, — 


356  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"  Ah !  this  lad  is  much  too  clever — too  clever  by  half. 
If  I  were  going  on  with  the  business,  and  could  make 
it  worth  his  while,  how  useful  he  would  be  to  me !  but 
just  now  it  would  be  most  imprudent  to  allow  him  to 
wander  about  and  jabber  when  he  gets  drunk." 

Meanwhile  Toto  had  called  a  waiter,  and,  flinging  a 
ten-franc  piece  on  the  table,  said  haughtily:  "Take 
your  bill  out  of  that."  But  Tantaine  pushed  the  money 
back  toward  the  lad,  and,  drawing  another  ten-franc 
piece  from  his  pocket,  gave  it  to  the  waiter. 

This  unexpected  act  of  generosity  put  the  lad  in  the 
best  possible  humor.  "All  the  better  for  me,"  ex- 
claimed he ;  "  and  now  let  us  hunt  up  Caroline  Schim- 
mel." 

"  Is  she  here?    I  could  not  find  her." 

"  Because  you  did  not  know  where  to  look  for  her. 
She  is  at  cards  in  the  coffee-room.  Come  along,  sir." 

But  Tantaine  laid  his  hand  upon  the  boy's  arm. 

"  One  moment,"  said  he.  "  Did  you  tell  the  woman 
just  what  I  ordered  you  to  say?" 

"  I  did  not  omit  a  single  word." 

"  Tell  me  what  you  said,  then." 

"  For  five  days,"  began  the  lad  solemnly,  "  your  Toto 
has  been  your  Caroline's  shadow.  We  have  played 
cards  until  all  sorts  of  hours,  and  I  took  care  that  she 
should  always  win.  I  confided  to  her  that  I  had  a 
jolly  old  uncle, — a  man  not  without  means,  a  widower, 
and  crazy  to  be  married  again, — who  had  seen  her  and 
had  fallen  in  love  with  her." 

"  Good !  my  lad,  good !  and  what  did  she  say  ?  " 

"Why,  she  grinned  like  half  a  dozen  cats;  only  she 
is  a  bit  artful,  and  I  saw  at  once  that  she  thought  I 
was  after  her  cash,  but  the  mention  of  my  uncle's  prop- 
erty soon  chucked  her  off  that  idea." 


AT  THE   GRAND  TURK  357 

"  Did  you  give  my  name  ?  " 

"Yes,  at  the  end,  I  did.  I  knew  that  she  had  seen 
you,  and  so  I  kept  it  back  as  long  as  I  could;  but  as 
soon  as  I  mentioned  it  she  looked  rather  confused,  and 
cried  out :  '  I  know  him  quite  well/  So  you  see,  sir, 
all  you  have  now  is  to  settle  a  day  for  the  marriage. 
Come  on;  she  expects  you." 

Toto  was  right.  The  late  domestic  of  the  Duke  de 
Champdoce  was  playing  cards;  but  as  soon  as  she 
caught  sight  of  Toto  and  his  pretended  uncle,  in  spite 
of  her  holding  an  excellent  hand,  she  threw  up  her 
cards,  and  received  him  with  the  utmost  civility.  Toto 
looked  on  with  delight.  Never  had  he  seen  the  old 
rascal  (as  he  inwardly  called  him  in  his  heart)  so  polite, 
agreeable,  and  talkative.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  Car- 
oline Schimmel  was  yielding  to  his  fascinations,  for  she 
had  never  had  such  extravagant  compliments  whis- 
pered in  her  ear  in  so  persuasive  a  tone.  But  Tan- 
taine  did  not  confine  his  attentions  to  wine  only:  he 
first  ordered  a  bowl  of  punch,  and  then  followed  that 
up  by  a  bottle  of  the  best  brandy.  All  the  old  man's 
lost  youth  seemed  to  have  come  back  to  him :  he  sang, 
he  drank,  and  he  danced.  Toto  watched  them  in  utter 
surprise,  as  the  old  man  whirled  the  clumsy  figure  of 
the  woman  round  the  room. 

And  he  was  rewarded  for  this  tremendous  exertion, 
for  by  ten  o'clock  she  had  consented,  and  Caroline  left 
the  Grand  Turk  on  the  arm  of  her  future  husband,  hav- 
ing promised  to  take  supper  with  him. 

Next  morning,  when  the  scavengers  came  down 
from  Montmartre  to  ply  their  matutinal  avocations, 
they  found  the  body  of  a  woman  lying  on  her  face  on 
the  pavement.  They  raised  her  up  and  carried  her  to 
an  hospital.  She  was  not  dead,  as  had  been  at  first 


358  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

supposed ;  and  when  the  unhappy  creature  came  to  her 
senses,  she  said  that  her  name  was  Caroline  Schimmel, 
that  she  had  been  to  supper  at  a  restaurant  with  her  be- 
trothed, and  that  from  that  instant  she  remembered 
nothing.  At  her  request,  the  surgeon  had  her  conveyed 
to  her  home  in  the  Rue  Mercadet. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

THE  LAST  LINK. 

FOR  some  days  M.  Mascarin  had  not  shown  himself  at 
the  office,  and  Beaumarchef  was  terribly  harassed  with 
inquiries  regarding  his  absent  master.  Mascarin,  on 
the  day  after  the  evening  on  which  Tantaine  had  met 
Caroline  Schimmel  at  the  Grand  Turk,  was  carefully 
shut  up  in  his  private  room;  his  face  and  eyes  were 
red  and  inflamed,  and  he  occasionally  sipped  a  glass  of 
some  cooling  beverage  which  stood  before  him,  and  his 
compressed  lips  and  corrugated  brow  showed  how 
deeply  he  was  meditating.  Suddenly  the  door  opened, 
and  Dr.  Hortebise  entered  the  room. 

"Well!"  exclaimed  Mascarin,  "have  you  seen  the 
Mussidans,  as  I  told  you  to  do." 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Hortebise  briskly ;  "  I  saw 
the  Countess,  and  told  her  how  pressing  the  holders  of 
her  letters  were  growing,  and  urged  on  her  the  neces- 
sity for  immediate  action.  She  told  me  that  both  she 
and  her  husband  had  determined  to  yield,  and  that 
Sabine,  though  evidently  broken-hearted,  would  not  op- 
pose the  marriage." 

'•'Good,"  said  Mascarin;  "and  now,  if  Croisenois 


THE   LAST   LINK  359 

only  follows  out  the  orders  that  I  have  given  him,  the 
marriage  will  take  place  without  the  knowledge  of 
either  De  Breulh  or  Andre.  Then  we  need  fear  them 
no  longer.  The  prospectus  of  the  new  Company  is 
ready,  and  can  be  issued  almost  immediately;  but  we 
meet  to-day  to  discuss  not  that  matter,  but  the  more 
important  one  of  the  heir  to  the  Champdoce  title." 

A  timid  knock  at  the  door  announced  the  arrival  of 
Paul  who  came  in  hesitatingly,  as  if  doubtful  what  sort 
of  a  reception  he  might  receive;  but  Mascarin  gave 
him  the  warmest  possible  welcome. 

"  Permit  me/'  said  he,  "  to  offer  you  my  congratula- 
tions on  having  won  the  affections  of  so  estimable  and 
wealthy  a  young  lady  as  Mademoiselle  Flavia.  I  may 
tell  you  that  a  friend  of  mine  has  informed  me  of  the 
very  flattering  terms  in  which  her  father,  M.  Rigal, 
spoke  of  you,  and  I  can  assure  you  that  if  our  mutual 
friend  Dr.  Hortebise  were  to  go  to  the  banker  with 
an  offer  of  marriage  on  your  part,  you  have  no  cause 
to  dread  a  refusal." 

Paul  blushed  with  pleasure,  and  as  he  was  stammer- 
ing out  a  few  words,  the  door  opened  for  the  third 
time,  and  Catenae  made  his  appearance.  To  cover  the 
lateness  of  his  arrival,  he  had  clothed  his  face  in  smiles, 
and  advanced  with  outstretched  hands  toward  his  con- 
federates; but  Mascarin's  look  and  manner  were  so 
menacing,  that  he  recoiled  a  few  steps  and  gazed  on 
him  with  an  expression  of  the  utmost  wonder  and 
surprise. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  reception?"  asked 
he. 

"  Can  you  not  guess  ?  "  returned  Mascarin,  his  man- 
ner growing  more  and  more  threatening.  "I  have 
sounded  the  lowest  depths  of  your  infamy.  I  was  sure 


360  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

the  other  day  that  you  meant  to  turn  traitor,  but  you 
swore  to  the  contrary,  and  you " 

"On  my  honor " 

"It  is  useless.  One  word  from  Perpignan  set  us 
on  the  right  track.  Were  you  or  were  you  not  ignorant 
that  the  Duke  de  Champdoce  had  a  certain  way  of 
recognizing  his  son,  and  that  was  by  a  certain  inefface- 
able scar?" 

"  It  had  escaped  my  memory " 

The  words  faded  from  his  lips,  for  even  his  great 
self-command  failed  him  under  Mascarin's  disdainful 
glance. 

"  Let  me  tell  you  what  I  think  of  you,"  said  the  lat- 
ter. "  I  knew  that  you  were  a  coward  and  a  traitor. 
Even  convicts  keep  faith  with  each  other,  and  I  had 
not  thought  you  so  utterly  infamous." 

"  Then  why  have  you  forced  me  to  act  contrary  to 
my  wishes?" 

This  reply  exasperated  Mascarin  so  much  that  he 
grasped  Catenae  by  the  throat,  and  shook  him  vio- 
lently. 

"  I  made  use  of  you,  you  viper,"  said  he,  "  because 
I  had  placed  you  in  such  a  position  that  you  could  not 
harm  us.  And  now  you  will  serve  me  because  I  will 
show  you  that  I  can  take  everything  from  you — name, 
money,  liberty,  and  life.  All  depends  upon  our  suc- 
cess. If  we  fail,  you  fall  into  an  abyss  of  the  depth 
and  horrors  of  which  you  can  have  no  conception.  I 
knew  with  whom  I  had  to  deal,  and  took  my  meas- 
ures accordingly.  The  most  crushing  proofs  of  your 
crime  are  in  the  hands  of  a  person  who  has  precise 
orders  how  to  act.  When  I  give  the  signal,  he  moves; 
and  when  he  moves,  you  are  utterly  lost." 

There  was  something  so  threatening  in  the  silence 


THE   LAST   LINK  361 

that  followed  this  speech  that  Paul  grew  faint  with  ap- 
prehension. 

"And,"  went  on  Mascarin,  "it  would  be  an  evil 
day  for  you  if  anything  were  to  happen  to  Hortebise, 
Paul,  or  myself;  for  if  one  of  us  were  to  die  suddenly, 
your  fate  would  be  sealed.  You  cannot  say  that  you 
have  not  been  warned." 

Catenae  stood  with  his  head  bent  upon  his  breast, 
rooted  to  the  ground  with  terror.  He  felt  that  he  was 
bound,  and  gagged,  and  fettered  hand  and  foot.  Mas- 
carin swallowed  some  of  the  cooling  draught  that  stood 
before  him,  and  tranquilly  commenced, — 

"Suppose,  Catenae,  that  I  were  to  tell  you  that  I 
know  far  more  of  the  Champdoce  matter  than  you  do; 
for,  after  all,  your  knowledge  is  only  derived  from 
what  the  Duke  has  told  you.  You  think  that  you  have 
hit  upon  the  truth;  you  were  never  more  mistaken  in 
your  life.  I,  perhaps  you  are  unaware,  have  been  many 
years  engaged  in  this  matter.  Perhaps  you  would  like 
to  know  how  I  first  thought  of  the  affair.  Do  you  re- 
member that  solicitor  who  had  an  office  near  the  Law 
Courts,  and  did  a  great  deal  of  blackmail  business? 
If  you  do,  you  must  remember  that  he  got  two  years' 
hard  labor." 

"Yes,  I  remember  the  man,"  returned  Catenae  in  a 
humble  voice. 

"  He  used,"  continued  Mascarin,  "  to  buy  up  waste 
paper,  and  search  through  the  piles  he  had  collected  for 
any  matters  that  might  be  concealed  in  the  hetero- 
geneous mass.  And  many  things  he  must  have  found. 
In  what  sensational  case  have  not  letters  played  a 
prominent  part?  What  man  is  there  who  has  not  at 
one  time  or  other  regretted  that  he  has  had  pen  and 
ink  ready  to  his  hand?  If  men  were  wise,  they  would 


362  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

use  those  patent  inks,  which  fade  from  the  paper  in  a 
few  days.  I  followed  his  example,  and,  among  other 
strange  discoveries,  I  made  this  one." 

He  took  from  his  desk  a  piece  of  paper — ragged, 
dirty,  and  creased — and,  handing  it  to  Hortebise  and 
Paul,  said, — 

"  Read ! " 

They  did  so,  and  read  the  following  strange  word: 
"TNAFNEERTONIOMZEDNEREITIPZEYAETN 
ECONNISIUSEJECARG;"  while  underneath  was 
written  in  another  hand  the  word,  "  Never/' 

"It  was  evident  that  I  had  in  my  hands  a  letter 
written  in  cipher,  and  I  concluded  that  the  paper  con- 
tained some  important  secret." 

Catenae  listened  to  this  narrative  with  an  air  of  con- 
tempt, for  he  was  one  of  those  foolish  men  who  never 
know  when  it  is  best  for  them  to  yield. 

"  I  daresay  you  are  right,"  answered  he  with  a 
slight  sneer. 

"  Thank  you,"  returned  Mascarin  coolly.  "  At  any 
rate,  I  was  deeply  interested  in  solving  this  riddle,  the 
more  as  I  belonged  to  an  association  which  owes  its 
being  and  position  to  its  skill  in  penetrating  the  secrets 
of  others.  I  shut  myself  up  in  my  room,  and  vowed 
that  I  would  not  leave  it  until  I  had  worked  out  the 
cipher." 

Paul,  Hortebise,  and  Catenae  examined  the  letter 
curiously,  but  could  make  nothing  of  it. 

"  I  can't  make  head  or  tail  of  it,"  said  the  doctor  im- 
patiently. 

Mascarin  smiled  as  he  took  back  the  paper,  and 
remarked, — 

"At  first  I  was  as  much  puzzled  as  you  were,  and 
more  than  once  was  tempted  to  throw  the  document 


THE   LAST   LINK  363 

into  the  waste-paper  basket,  but  a  secret  feeling  that  it 
opened  a  way  to  all  our  fortunes  restrained  me.  Of 
course  there  was  the  chance  that  I  might  only  decipher 
some  foolish  jest,  and  no  secret  at  all,  but  still  L  went 
on.  If  the  commencement  of  the  word  was  written  in 
a  woman's  hand,  the  last  word  had  evidently  been 
added  by  a  man.  But  why  should  a  cryptogram  have 
been  used  ?  Was  it  because  the  demand  was  of  so  dan- 
gerous and  compromising  a  character  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  put  it  in  plain  language?  If  so,  why  was 
the  last  word  not  in  cipher?  Simply  because  the  mere 
rejection  of  what  was  certainly  a  demand  would  in  no 
manner  compromise  the  writer.  You  will  ask  how  it 
happens  that  demand  and  rejection  are  both  on  the 
same  sheet  of  paper.  I  thought  this  over,  and  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  letter  had  once  been  meant  for 
the  post,  but  had  been  sent  by  hand.  Perhaps  the 
writers  may  have  occupied  rooms  in  the  same  house. 
The  woman,  in  the  anguish  of  her  soul,  may  have  sent 
the  letter  by  a  servant  to  her  husband,  and  he,  trans- 
ported by  rage,  may  have  hurriedly  scrawled  this  word 
across  it,  and  returned  it  again:  'Take  this  to  your 
mistress.'  Having  settled  this  point,  I  attacked  the 
cipher,  and,  after  fourteen  hours'  hard  work,  hit  upon 
its  meaning. 

"  Accidentally  I  held  the  piece  of  paper  between  my- 
self and  the  light,  with  the  side  on  which  the  writing 
was  turned  from  me,  and  read  it  at  once.  It  was  a 
cryptogram  of  the  simplest  kind,  as  the  letters  forming 
the  words  were  simply  reversed.  I  divided  the  letters 
into  words,  and  made  out  this  sentence :  '  Grace,  je  suis 
innocent  e.  Ayez  pitie;  rendez-moi  noire  enfant 
(Mercy,  I  am  innocent.  Give  me  back  our  son)."' 

Hortebise  snatched  up  the  paper  and  glanced  at  it. 


364  CAUGHT   IN   THE   NET 

"You  are  right/'  said  he;  "it  is  the  art  of  cipher 
writing  in  its  infancy." 

t(  I  had  succeeded  in  reading  it, — but  how  to  make 
use  of  it !  The  mass  of  waste  paper  in  which  I  found 
it  had  been  purchased  from  a  servant  in  a  country 
house  near  Vendome.  A  friend  of  mine,  who  was  ac- 
customed to  drawing  plans  and  maps,  came  to  my  aid, 
and  discovered  some  faint  signs  of  a  crest  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  paper.  With  the  aid  of  a  powerful  magnify- 
ing glass,  I  discovered  it  to  be  the  cognizance  of  the 
ducal  house  of  Champdoce.  The  light  that  guided  me 
was  faint  and  uncertain,  and  many  another  man  would 
have  given  up  the  quest.  But  the  thought  was  with  me 
in  my  waking  hours,  and  was  the  companion  of  my 
pillow  during  the  dark  hours  of  the  night.  Six  months 
later  I  knew  that  it  was  the  Duchess  who  had  ad- 
dressed this  missive  to  her  husband,  and  why  she  had 
done  so.  By  degrees  I  learned  all  the  secret  to  which 
this  scrap  of  paper  gave  me  the  clue;  and  if  I  have 
been  a  long  while  over  it,  it  is  because  one  link  was 
wanting  which  I  only  discovered  yesterday." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  doctor,,  "  then  Caroline  Schimmel  has 
spoken." 

"Yes;  drink  was  the  magician  that  disclosed  the 
secret  that  for  twenty  years  she  had  guarded  with  un- 
swerving fidelity." 

As  Mascarin  uttered  these  words  he  opened  a  draw- 
er, and  drew  from  it  a  large  pile  of  manuscript,  which 
he  waved  over  his  head  with  an  air  of  triumph. 

"This  is  the  greatest  work  that  I  have  ever  done," 
exclaimed  he.  "  Listen  to  it,  Hortebise,  and  you  shall 
see  how  it  is  that  I  hold  firmly,  at  the  same  time,  both 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Champdoce,  and  Diana  the 
Countess  of  Mussidan.  Listen  to  me,  Catenae, — you 


THE   LAST   LINK  365 

who  distrusted  me,  and  were  ready  to  play  the  traitor, 
and  tell  me  if  I  do  not  grasp  success  in  my  strong  right 
hand/'  Then,  holding  out  the  roll  of  papers  to  Paul, 
he  cried,  "And  do  you,  my  dear  boy,  take  this  and 
read  it  carefully.  Let  nothing  escape  you,  for  there 
is  not  one  item,  however  trivial  it  may  seem  to  you, 
that  has  not  its  importance.  It  is  the  history  of  a  great 
and  noble  house,  and  one  in  which  you  are  more  in- 
terested than  you  may  think." 

Paul  opened  the  manuscript,  and,  in  a  voice  which 
quivered  with  emotion,  he  read  the  facts  announced 
by  Mascarin,  which  he  had  entitled  "  The  Mystery  of 
Champdoce." 

The  conclusion  of  this  exciting  narrative  will  be 
found  in  the  volume  called  "  The  Mystery  of  Champ' 
doce." 


000  671  314    3 


